- 



<^v, -\ x ^v^v- % ^ 



i 



\ 



THE 

CRESCENT AND THE CKOSS ; 

OR, 

ROMANCE AND REALITIES 

OF 

EASTERN TRAVEL. 

BY 

ELIOT WARBURTON. 



®J)trtontf) Litton. 



LONDON: 

HURST AND BLACK ETT, PUBLISHERS, 
SUCCESSORS TO HENRY COLBURN, 
13, GREAT MARLROBOUGH STREET. 
1857. 



LONDON : 
PRINTED BY HARRISON AND SONS, 
ST. martin's LANE, W. C. 



TRANSFER 

2 

NOV £0 1943 
iai fie! j,a Division 
of of Sum 

Copy . 



Se 
Tb 



DEDICATORY PREFACE 

TO THE EIGHTH EDITION. 



TO THE BEV. EDWARD HABTOPP CEADOCK, 

CANON OF WORCESTER, 
ETC., ETC., ETC., 

A Churcliman without bigotry, a scholar without 
pedantry, I dedicate these sketches of sacred and 
historic lands. In doing so, I take a final leave of 
this my first essay in Literature, as of an old friend 
to whom I have much reason to be grateful. If, 
in its present more popular form, my work should 
reach beyond the library and the drawing-room, to 
the factory and the farm-house, I shall feel more 
grateful still ; for to amuse, if not to enlighten, some 
holiday hours of the working-man, or to cheer the 
weary leisure of his sick bed, is one of the privileges 
I should most value. 

The ''cheap excursions" that now open new sources 
of interest and information to the labouring classes 
are not confined to mere locomotion on the railroad 
or the river. Excursions of thought, not less useful, 
may be made by the artisan, without leaving his own 
fireside: there seated, in relaxation of physical toil, 
he may explore Egypt with Belzoni, and Nineveh 

a 2 



iv 



DEDICATORY PREFACE. 



with Layard, or perform pilgrimage to the Holy 
Land, as his fathers did in the old times before him. 
The knowledge and material for thought that were 
formerly secluded among philosophers and travellers, 
are now " laid down/' as it were, like gas and water, 
at almost every poor man's door. They may help 
themselves at discretion, and fortunate it is for them 
when the stream runs pure, for no legislative measure 
can improve the sanitary condition of mental nutri- 
ment. Hence, arises the great importance of pro- 
viding cheap Literature of a description that may 
enlighten, while it interests the mind of the self- 
educating people, without pandering to base passions, 
or conniving at false prejudices. Science, popularly 
explained, as in the excellent 6: Household Words;'' 
biographies of wise and worthy citizens; histories 
impartially composed; and faithful records of foreign 
travel, appear to be best calculated for this great 
object. 

If into one of these extensive classes my work may 
be allowed to claim admission, I desire on its behalf 
no higher compliment. If few may be made wiser, I 
trust that none will be made worse by any thought 
that it contains. 

Rutland Gate, Hyde Park, 
November 21, 1850. 



CONTENTS. 



Dedicatory Preface . . . • 
CHAPTER L 

The Outward Bound. — Southampton — Oriental Steamer — 
Passengers — The Sailor — Diary — Invalid — Advantages . . 1 

CHAPTER II. 

Gibraltar. — The Straits — The Bay — Spanish Scenery — 
Population — Climate — The Moors in Spain — The French in 
Algiers — Calypso's Isle — Malta — Valetta — Hotels of the Tongues 
Maltese — Garrison — Catacombs — Citta Vecchia — " Old Times" 7 

CHAPTER III. 

Alexandria.— View from the Pharos — The Bay — The Quays 
—The City 16 

CHAPTER IV. 

The Nile. — Its Battle — Mahmoudieh Canal — Its Scenery — 
Sir Sidney Smith — Approach to Cairo 19 

CHAPTER V. 

Cairo.— Without— Within— The Citadel— Slaughter of the 
Mamelukes — Environs, &c. — Heliopolis — Palace of Shoobra — 
Oriental Gardens — Tombs of the Mamelukes — Petrified Forest 
Chicken Ovens — Feast of Lanterns — Doseh — Slave Market . 29 

CHAPTER VI. 



The Hareem. — Wives — Their Seclusion — Fatima — Ven- 
geance — Immortality — Dress , . .41 



VI CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER VII. 



The Moslem. — Appearance — Races — The Tuv)i — The 
Mameluke .......... 49 



CHAPTER VIII. 

Mahomet. — Star Worship — Islam — Life of the Prophet — ■ 
The Jew — The Copt — The Missionary — Magic 



CHAPTER IX. 

Ltfe upon the Nile. — Metropolis — Embarkation — Voyage — 
Night — Morning — The Tent — The Boat — Acherusia — Memphis 
— Valley of the Nile — Navigation — Scenery — Exuberance of 
animal life — Conscription — Night Storm — Sugar Plantation — 
Siout — Catacombs — Stabl d'Antar — View — Mummies — Scenery 
— Crocodiles — Shooting — Fishing — Botanizing — Markets- 
Feast — Pitcher and Bee Boats — Slavers — Visitors . . • 71 



CHAPTER X. 

Upper Egypt. — Scenery — Free Trade — Worship — Thebes — 
Esneh — Medical Practice — Assouan — Eiephantina — .Ethiopia— 
Meroe — Abyssinia — Behr — Tiger King — Blue and White 
Rivers ........... §i) 



CHAPTER XI. 

The Cataract and Philce. — Unloading — Chiefs of the 
Cataract — Hippopotamus — The Falls — Philce — A Row — Ascent 
of the Cataract • • 1C3 



CHAPTER XII. 

Nubia. — Scenery — People — Language — Women — Ball — The 
Tropics — Second Cataract — - Weather — Prospect — Fortunate 
Island — Contrast — Wady Haifa — Mount Abousir — The Cataract 
— Music — On the Desert — On the Nile — Songs • . .211 



CHAPTER XIII. 

Antiquities of Nubia. — Ipsamboul — Dirr — R,oyal Audience 
— Ammada — Seyala — Desert Warrior — Whirlwind — Dakke — 
Guerf Hassan — Dandour — Kalabshe — Descent of the 
Cataract . . • . 131 



CONTENTS. 



vii 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Esneh and the Alme. — Koum Ombos — Hadjar Silsili — 
Esneh — Arnaouts — Alme 141 



CHAPTER XV. 

Thebes. — Return to Cairo— A Mutiny — Dendera— Keneh — 
Maufaloot — Cairene Lodgings— England in the East . .153 



CHAPTER XVI. 

The Pyramids. — The Tombs— Midnight Exploring— Rob- 
ber Arabs — Date of Pyramids — Legends — Khoda Island . .166 



CHAPTER XVII. 

Modern Alexandria. — Fever — Transit of the Desert — 
Harbour — Climate • . • . . • . .171 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

The Pasha.— His youthful career— The Wahabees — Forma- 
tion of his Army — Greek "War — Breach with the Porte — Suc- 
cesses, and Compromise — His Schools — His Policy — His Cha- 
racter — Prospects of Egypt . . • . . . .174 



CHAPTER XIX. 

The Levant. — Voyage to Beyrout — The Holy Land — Qua- 
rantine — Syrian Family— Hotel at Beyrout — Syrian Scenery — 
My Cottage near Beyrout — Views — Dog River — English Resi- 
dents — Silkworms — Style of Travel — Pine Forest of Beyrout — 
Bivouacs — Scenery of the Lebanon — Djouni — Lady Hester 
Stanhope — Her History and Death . • . . .3 37 



CHAPTER XX. 

Tyre, Sidon, and Acre. — Sidon — Its History—Robber 
Haunt — Tyre — Its History — Bedouins— Bombardment of Acre 206 

CHAPTER XXI. 

The Bivouac, and Mount Carmel. — Our Life in Syria — 
River Belus — Monastery — Jean Battista — Elijah — Syrian Yacht- 
ing — Storm at Sea — Jaffa — Convent — Consul — Ramleh— Hill 
Country — First View of Jerusalem ...... 21.4 



Vlll 



CONTENTS, 



CHAPTER XXII. 

Jerusalem. — Without — Within — The Mount of Olives — 
Mosque of Omar — Holy Sepulchre . . . • .231 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

The Monk, the Missionary, and the Pilgrim. — Soli- 
taries — Coenobites — Templars — Hospitallers — Latins — Greeks — 
Armenians — Sacred Fire — Convents — Relics — Church of Eng- 
land Mission — Medical Aid Society — The Church at Jerusalem — 
Christian — Moslem — Scenes of Visit — Residence at Jerusalem — 
Abou Habib — the Jordan .241 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

Bethlehem.— Tombs of the Kings— Bethlehem — Madonna 
■^Church of St. Helena— Women of Bethlehem — Arab Horse — 
Assassin — Chapel Scene — Adventure— Armenian Hospitality — 
Bedouins — Convent — Scenery— Bead Sea — Valley of the Jordan 
— Jericho . . 253 

CHAPTER XXV. 

The Arab and his Hobse. — Arabia — Arab Honesty — 
Chastity— Mode of Life— The Horse . . . . .271 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

The Jew. — Prophecy — The Lost Tribes — Syrian — European 
— Their Creed — Sadducees— Character— Arab — Gathering to Je- 
rusalem — Synagogue 277 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

TciE Lebanon.— Bcyrout — Departure — Route— Coelesyria — 
Derr el Kamar— Beteddeen— The Bath— Mountain Scenery- 
Eagles— Gezhcn— Emir's Palace at Hasbeya— Emir Afendi— 
Mount Hermon ......... 284 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

Damascus.— Without— Within— Convent— Women— Mag- 
netism . . . . . m t # m t 298 



CHAPTER XXIX. 
Ba alhec Mountain Journey— Zebdani— Baalbec— Solomon 
—Tradition— Eastern Travel— The Dream — Mountain Stream— 



CONTENTS. ix 

The Cedars — View from the summit of Lebanon — The Forest — 
Encampment — Bshirrai — Adventure with Smugglers . • . 307 

CHAPTER XXX. 

Constantinople. — Turkish Steamer — Persian Princes — 
Women of Cyprus — Rhodes — Dardanelles — Moonlight Cruise 
with the Persians — Stamboul — The Bosphorus — Buyukdere — 
Black Sea — Cyanean Rocks — Unkiar Skelessi — Ames Damnees — 
Walls of Constantinople — Palseologus — Palace of Belisarius— 
The Porte — Sultan Mahmoud . . . • . • .319 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

Greece. — Smyrna — The Cyclades — Syra — Delos — Climate — 
Pantheism — Athens — Rome — Temple of Jupiter — Acropolis — 
Prospects of Greece — Her King — Her population — Her War — 
Palikari — Revolution — Romaic — Farewell to Greece . • . 332 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

Ionian Islands. — Zante — Ithaca — Leucadia — Cephalonia — 
Corfu — Albania — Farewell . . . . . . .347 



Hints to Travellers 353 

APPENDIX. 

1. Natural History of Egypt — Railways and Canals . . . 359 

2. Statistics, Commerce, and Route to India .... 364 

3. The Mountain Tribes — Fakreddin — Emir Bescher — Inferior 

Emirs — Maronites — Druses — Shehab Family — Metoualis 

— Objects of Inquiry ....... 367 

4. On the Crescent and the Cross as Symbols . . . .3 71 

5. Government of Corfu . 9 . . . . .372 

INDEX . . . . . . .375 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



1. Egyptian Travel . (Frontispiece.) 

2. Syrian Travelling — Encampment at Baalbec — Lady and 

Dragoman in Foreground . . . Page J 

3. Malta, from the anchorage 7 

4. Assouan . ...... 96 

5. Sheikh, Rais, and Pilot of the Cataract . . . .104 

6. Island of Philce . . . . . .113 

7. Group of Nubians .120 

8. Rocks near the Second Cataract . . . , .124 

9. Ipsamboul 132 

10. Lady H. Stanhope's Tomb 206 

11. Mount Carmel 222 

12. Convent of Mar Saba 3 261 

13. The Dead Sea „ . . . , . .271 

14. Palace of the Lebanon . 284 

15. Rhodes • • • * . 320 



THE 

CEESCENT AND THE CEOSS. 



CHAPTER I. 
THE OUTWARD BOUND— LIFE AT SEA. 

And oh ! when the glad waves foam around, 

And the wind blows fair and free, 
The health that we drank to the Outward-bcund 

Will come back to their memory. 

Old friends will still seem near them, 

In their ocean-cradled sleep ; 
And that dreaming-thought will cheer them, 

Far away on the lonely deep. 

Then nil, while the mid-watch passes, 

Fill, the toast let it circle round, 
From full hearts and brimming glasses, 

And, hujrrah ! for the Outward-bound ! 

Hon. Mrs. Norton. 

« 

We took leave* of Old England and the Old Year to- 
gether. New Year's daylight found us standing on South- 
ampton Pier, while the town itself lay buried beneath an 
avalanche of snowy mist, through which a few spires 
scarcely struggled into sight. The Oriental steam-ship lay 
about a gun-shot from the shore, sucking in a mingled 
mass of passengers and luggage through a cavernous 
mouth in her cliff-like side; boatload after boatload was 
swallowed like mere spoonfuls, until it seemed marvellous 
how even her aldermanic bulk could " find stomach for 
them all." I had the Polyphemian boon of being devoured 
last, and was thus a mere observer of the partings and 
departings of the " Outward bound." 

B 



2 



THE OUTWARD BOUND. 



On mounting the ship's side, I found the lower deck 
one vast pile of luggage, vainly endeavouring to be iden- 
tified by its distracted owners. No one seemed to find 
anything they, wanted; cyclopean portmanteaus, "to be 
opened at Calcutta/' presented themselves freely; saddlery 
and bullock-trunks were quite obtrusive ; but little " in- 
dispensables for the voyage" were nowhere to be found 
— night garments were invisible, and remedies for sea- 
sickness reserved themselves for the overland journey. 
Search and suspense, however, were soon terminated by 
the sinking of the whole chaotic mass into the yawning 
depths of the hold, and the tomb-like hatches closed over 
our " loved and lost." After this bereavement, we all 
assembled on the upper-deck, in involuntary and uncon- 
scious muster, each inspecting and inspected by his fellow- 
travellers. 

With the exception of two or three families, every one 
seemed to be a stranger to every one, and each walked 
the deck in a solitude of his own. There were old men, 
with complexions as yellow as the gold for which they 
had sold their youth, returning to India in search of the 
health which their native country, longed for through a 
life, denied them. There were young cadets, all eagerness 
and hope, though these, their predecessors, stood before 
them, mementos, — like the mummies at Egyptian ban- 
quets, — of the end of their young life's festival. There 
were missionary clergymen with Kuth-like wives; mer- 
chants, with invoices apparently as fondly prized ; young 
widows, with eyes black as their mourning, and sparkling 
as their useless marriage-ring; and one or two fair girls 
— Heaven knows what sorrow sent them there ! — straying 
from their English homes of peace and purity, over the 
ocean and the desert, to encounter the worst dangers of 
Indian society. Then there were little cadets, in whom 
the pride of new-born independence and uniform con- 
tended with fond and melancholy thoughts of home: there 
were sailors, with the blunt manly bearing, and free open 
speech of their profession : and, lastly, there were two or 
three vague wanderers, like myself, who were only leaving 
Europe, as men leave a crowded room, to breathe awhile 
freely in the open East. 



LIFE AT SEA. 



3 



All these, in various groups, were scattered over the 
spacious upper deck, on which there was no stain, nor any 
interruption to the lady's walk or the sailor's rush ; it 
was smooth, flush, and Ie\ei, except for the graceful and 
almost imperceptible swell and rise towards the bows. 

Below, the busy, bustling scene was very different. Miss 
Mitford herself might recognise the lower deck as a com- 
plete village. It was a street of cabins, over whose doors 
you read the addresses of the doctor, the baker, the butcher, 
the confectioner, the carpenter, and many others; besides 
the " quality at the west end," in the shape of officers 
quarters. This street terminated in a rural scene, where 
the smell of new-mown hay, the lowing of cattle, the 
bleating of sheep, and the crowing of cocks, produced 
quite a pastoral effect. Among these signs of peace and 
plenty, four carronades frowned rather gloomily; and 
beneath the farm-yard throbbed the iron heart of the 
gigantic engine. 

About noon, the last boat shoved off, the gangway 
curled itself up, a voice from the paddle-boxes said quietly 
— " Go on !" — and the vast vessel glided away as smoothly 
as a gondola. 

The first day of our voyage passed very silently away : 
many of my comrades were sea-sick, and more were sick 
at heart ; but in the evening there was a startling erup- 
tion of writing-desks, and a perfect flutter of pens pre- 
paring for the Falmouth post-bag. I think I see those 
eager scribes before me now : men of business, with their 
swift and steady quill ; women, gracefully bending over 
their twice-crossed notes (not the more legible, lady! foi 
that tear — ) ; and lonely little boys, biting their bran-new 
pen-holders, and looking up to the ceiling in search of 
pleasant things to say to some bereaved mother. Her 
only comfort, perhaps, was to be that little scrawl, till her 
self-sacrificing heart was at rest for ever, or success had 
gilded her child's far-distant career. 

The following day we were at Falmouth, and then we 
were at sea. 



By the bright goddess who sprang from ocean's foam, 
there is something glorious in this, her native element! 

B 2 



4 



LIFE AT SEA. 



Every heart dilates, and every pulse beats high, as, with 
favouring breezes in a cloud of sail, we sweep along our 
" mountain-path " over the Bay of Biscay. Philosophers 
tell us that we are composed of these same elements of 
air and ocean : and surely there is strong sympathy be- 
tween us ; for every wave we bound over, every breeze 
we breathe, is full of life and health, and energy and hope. 
There is no such remedy for drooping frame or pining 
spirit as the sea — I read it in every voice, and every eye, 
so changed within the last few days : colour is come back 
to the pale cheek, courage to the sinking heart, and health 
of mind and body to every voyager on board. 

The joyous and light-hearted yet gallant bearing of the 
sailor is no accident \ it issues naturally (from his stirring 
and eventful career^ from the exhilarating air that he 
breathes, the freedom from petty cares that he enjoys, 
and from the almost unconscious pride of a chivalrous pro- 
fession, which there are no town-bred coxcombs to laugh 
down. His life is passed in perpetual activity upon the 
ocean — that one great battle-field of England ! Her flag 
has swept its plains in triumph from the death-hour of 
the Armada, " when the winds and waves had commission 
from God to fight under British banners;" until these 
latter days, when the fortresses of Syria crumbled into 
ruins beneath her thunder, and a nation containing one 
third of earth's inhabitants bowed down before her.** 

But some practical details of a sea-life may interest 
such of my readers as have not already attained to an 
experience so customary in these amphibious days. Our 
time flows on smoothly, pleasantly, and even rapidly — its 
course is so monotonous and even* The minds of sea- 
going men enjoy exemption from the daily cares that 
fever ordinary life ashore ; there is no wealth to be lost 
or gained, no visitors, no letters to disturb into joy or 
sorrow, no imperative business to press on the attention : 
you live in the open air, between the awful ocean and the 

* The walls of Acre, impregnable even to Napoleon, lay heaped 
in ruins; Beyrout, Tyre, Sidon, Tortosa-Gibell, and Scanderoon, weve 
made defenceless; the " Flowery Land" was laid open to the world : 
England had but to say to her navy " do this ! n and the first despatch 
announced that it was done 1 



LIFE AT SEA. 



glorious sky : there is very little loud laughter, but there 
is scarcely an anxious or a gloomy brow. Every one 
linds a listener, and still more easily does every one find 
communicativeness. Information on every subject that 
can interest the traveller only waits an audience. You 
will hear places, that sound most strange and distant, 
spoken of with the familiarity of citizens: if you inquire 
about any locality in the wide East, up starts a native of 
the spot; and a gazetteer of voices is ready to enlighten 
you on any subject of geography, from Cairo to Hong- 
Kong. 

There are nearly two hundred souls on board, yet thore 
is as much order and regularity as in an English family. 
At half-past eight in the morning a dressing-bell resounds 
through the decks and galleries; the sleepers tumble off 
the shelves that are called berths, and a hundred razors 
are gleaming in a hundred miniature looking-glasses. At 
nine o'clock all are quietly seated round a well-furnished 
breakfast-table, whereat milk fresh from the dairy on the 
deck, hot rolls, salt fish, and turtle-cutlets figure advan- 
tageously. About ten the sunny deck is alive with inha- 
bitants, not unsuccessfully imitating life ashore. Merry 
groups of children are playing about as if on a grass-plot. 
Twos and threes of men are walking the decks for exercise 
as eagerly as if they'd never reach the bowsprit in time ; 
a tranquil group of smokers is arched over each paddle- 
box; ladies are reading, or working worsted monsters 
under the awning. An invalid or two is laid upon a 
sofa, gossiping now and then gently to a caught child, or 
a pausing passer-by. The sea is sparkling brightly as we 
move swiftly but smoothly over it ; and, except the silent 
sailor at the restless wheel, there is scarcely anything to 
remind us that 

" Our path is on the mountain wave, 
Our home is on the deep.' 5 

It did not require the isolation of our lot to create a 
deep interest about one of our fair invalids, who only ap- 
peared on deck when we entered on a milder climate. 
This poor girl was going to the Mediterranean, in the 



6 



LIFE AT SEA. 



hope of prolonging, not of saving, the life whose sunset 
hour was already visible in the bright colour of her hectic 
cheek. When I first saw her, her eyes, in which the 
light of immortality seemed already shining, were gazing 
mournfully on those northern skies she was never to be- 
hold again — at least, with an upward glance. Her help- 
lessness, and youth, and beauty, seemed to exercise an 
influence over all around, her ; the little children spoke 
softly, and the helmsman seemed to move the wheel more 
gently, lest it should disturb her. 

Is it the respect that men unconsciously feel towards 
those about to "put on immortality," or tenderness for 
those about to part from earth, that checks the wild laugh, 
and makes the eager foot tread lightly in the presence of 
that pale girl? I know not ; but if the old theory that 
failing life could be restored by the infusion of healthy 
blood were true — I believe there is not a man in all that 
crowded ship who would not freely let his best blood 
flow for her whom he never saw before, and whom, after 
a few more sunsets, none will ever see again. 

" Steward 1" calls out a little #adet, with the tone of a 
great mogul, " are you bringing me that ale ?" 

" No, sir," replies a voice from below ; " twelve dozen 
has been drunk since breakfast, and the purser wont 
allow any more till luncheon." 

This reasonable restriction is soon removed; luncheon 
appears at twelve, and with it the desired beer. Four 
o'clock is struck in concert with the dinner-bell : no one 
is late, and no injustice is done on this occasion. At five 
the deck is again alive; and, if the sea be smooth, qua- 
drillers and country- dancers bound over the depths of 
ocean, as much at home there as tritons or sea-nymphs : 
as the number of the former preponderates considerably, 
the latter are in great request. If the evening be stormy, 
the men gather round the oven between decks, and smoke, 
and sing, or listen with patient looks to the more vehe- 
ment conversationists — the bell-wethers of the talking 
flock. Seven o'clock bells summon to a tea of a very sub- 
stantial nature, which is followed by whist, chat, worsted- 
work, backgammon, — and books for quiet people — like us. 



GIBRALTAR, 



7 



At ten there is a light supper ; at eleven all lights are 
extinguished, except those at the binnacle and the mast- 
head j you tumble into your berth, and the day is done.* 




MALTA (FROM THE ANCHORAGE). 



CHAPTER II. 
GIBRALTAR — THE STRAITS — ALGIERS — MALTA. 

England, we love thee better than we know — 
And this I learnt when, after wanderings long 
'Mid people of another stock and tongue, 
I heard, at length, thy martial music blow, 
And saw thy warrior children to and fro 
Pace, keeping ward at one of those huge gates 
Which, like twin. giants, guard th' Herculean Straits. 

R. C. Trench. 

On the morning of the third day after leaving England, 
we entered the much calumniated Bay of Biscay, whose 

* I have dwelt thus long on the details of a modern sea-life because 
a prejudice at first existed against the long voyage; this I think is 



8 



GIBRALTAR. 



dangers are merely traditional, since the introduction of 
steam. On the 5th, we caught a glimpse of Cape Finis- 
terre, and then passed from the Bay of Biscay into wave- 
less waters, sheltered by the Spanish shore. Thenceforth, 
every morning rose with brighter suns and balmier breezes, 
until we came in sight of Capes St. Vincent and Trafalgar, 
relieved off the distant but beautiful mountain coast of 
Barbary. The proud thoughts awakened by these scenes 
of England's victories were not interrupted by the next 
bold headland; for there was Gibraltar, and there Eng- 
land's glorious flag was flying. 

There was not a cloud in all the calm and glowing 
sky; the crescent moon, the emblem of Moslem power, 
was trembling over the picturesque land of the Moor, 
almost dissolved in a flood of sunshine; the sea, a filagree 
of blue and silver, faintly reflected the mountains of 
Medina and Sidonia, among whose snowy summits we 
seemed to steer: all nature lay wrapt in a pleasant trance; 
and Spain, especially, was deep in her siesta, as we dashed 
into the bay of Gibraltar. 

The surrounding scenery, even divested of all associa- 
tion, is full of interest. An amphitheatre of finely undu- 
lated hills, with Algesiras in their bosom, sweeps along 
the left. In front, upon a slight eminence, the village of 
San Rocque grins like a set of white teeth, precipices for 
its jaw, and the celebrated cork wood for its moustaches ; 
beyond is a range of dark green hills, backed by the 
mountains of Granada — the Sierra Nevada, whose snowy 
peaks are tinged with a faint purple. Further to the right 
there is a low, sandy tract, the Neutral ground; and then 
— suddenly starting up to the height of fifteen hundred 
feet — stands the rock of Gibraltar, bound round with fort 
and battery, and bristling with innumerable guns. Its 

without foundation now, and requires only experience to overcome. 
There is no doubt that, for the infirm, the aged, and the very young, 
it is the most expedient means of reaching Malta and the shores of 
the Levant ; and for all, the most healthful and convenient. 

I have spoken of the "Oriental" steamer as I found her in two 
passages of upwards of 5000 miles in length ; and before I leave this 
subject, I must bear my willing testimony to the ability and courtesy 
of her captain, officers, and well-ordered crew : they all do credit to 
their gallant ship, as she does to the country that produced her. 



THE STRAITS, 



base is strewn with white houses, perched like sea-gulls 
wherever they can find a resting-place ; and here and there 
little patches of dark-green announce a garden. Curtain, 
ravelin, and rampart, blend and mingle with nature's for- 
tifications; and zig-zag lines from shore to summit look 
like conductors for the defenders' electric fire to flash 
along. It is a military maxim now, that no fortifications 
are in truth impregnable ; and it is not in the strength of 
wall or cliff without, but in the u Spartan's rampart " of 
brave hearts within, that we trust the British flag to float 
securely here as on the Tower of London. 

Here the invading Moors first established themselves in 
Spain — 

"When Cava's traitor sire had called the band 
That dyed her mountain streams with Gothic gore," 

and Gib-el Tai*ik* became Gibraltar. A boatful of us were 
soon ashore, and scattered over " the Rock," to shop, or 
cliff, or bastion, as their tastes prompted. I gallopped 
off on a spirited little barb to the signal-station, the Gal- 
leries, the Alameda, and the Moorish castle. Every spot 
was full of interest — from the craggy summit, with its 
magnificent view over Spain and Africa, to the mingled 
masses of house and rock and verandahs, almost meeting- 
over the precipitous streets. 

The population was very varied and picturesque : the 
Moors' u dusk faces, with white turban wreathed;" the Con- 
trabandistas, with embroidered jacket and tinkling bridles, 
setting out for the hills • the Jew, with his gabardine, and 
that stern medallic countenance in which the history of his 
race seems written; the merchant, with his sombrero ; 
the Turk, with his tarboosh ; the English sailor and the 
plumed Highlander. 

But the sudden change of climate and vegetation strikes 
one more, perhaps, than any other. A few days ago, 
wrapped in great coats, I was shivering among leafless 
trees : to-day, a light sailor's jacket feels oppressive, and 
the cactus, aloe, and geranium, are flowering in profusion 
wherever they can find footing on the steep and rugged 
rock. 

We sailed as the evening gun was firing. The coast 
* The Hill of Tarik, the name of the Saracen leader. 



10 



ALGIERS. 



of Barbary looked beautiful in the fading light, that har- 
monized tv ell with that land of old romance and mystery. 
Even in these later days it is almost as virgin to spe- 
culation and enterprise as when the Gothic kings meditated 
its invasion. 

The Strait, through which the Atlantic pours into the 
Mediterranean at the rate of four or five miles an hour, 
is here about twelve miles wide. One would suppose that 
such a vast volume of water might create a very respect- 
able ocean of its own in the course of a year or so : yet 
with this, assisted by all the rivers that pour in from the 
coasts of Africa, Asia, and Europe — to say nothing of the 
Black Sea, which flows in through the Bosphorus at about 
four miles an hour — the Mediterranean is not able to get 
up as much as an every-day tide. Rapidly we swept along 
its glittering waters, close by the coast of Africa, by Ceuta, 
Tangiers, and Tetuan, and then bore away for Cape de 
Gatta, visible by a brilliant moon that appropriately 
lighted up the coast of Granada. 

It is now three hundred and sixty years since the Moors 
were expelled from this fair land, through which they so 
long enlightened Europe with the wisdom of the East and 
the chivalry of the Desert. Under their rule, its gardens 
smiled, its valleys waved with corn, its very rocks were 
wreathed with vines, and the Alhambra rose. But then 
arose a bigotry and fanaticism far fiercer than their own ; 
it could not brook the happiness of a heretic people ; the 
banners of Ferdinand were unfurled, and 

" Red gleamed the Cross while waned the Crescent pale, 
And Afric's echoes thrilled with Moorish matrons' wail." 

The Moslemin were banished ; poverty and desolation 
came in their place ; and even now, the Christian tra- 
veller only ventures among the misery-made robbers of 
Granada, in search of the remnants of Moorish civilization. 

It seems a natural transition from the land of the 
Abencerrages, to that of Abd el Kader, for which we were 
now steering. Europe sank with the sun below the 
horizon on our left ; and on the day following but one, 
Africa rose with morning on our right. 

The first view of the coast of Algiers is very pictur- 
esque and peculiar in shape and colouring. Steep purple 



MALTA. 



11 



hills, rising abruptly from the sea and broken with dark 
ravines, are here brightened with little emerald lawns, 
and there gloomed over by the dark foliage of the palm 
and fig-tree. Villas, white as marble, speck the wooded 
parks along the shore ; the snowy summits of Mount Atlas 
are cut clearly out against the bright blue sky above, and 
a line of sparkling foam runs along the borders of the 
bright blue sea below. 

The city of Algiers, to the right as you enter, looks 
eastward over its beautiful bay ; it is almost of a pyramidal 
form, very concentrated • its flat and regular roofs look 
like a succession of white marble terraces, with here and 
there a swelling mosque dome, or a tapering minaret. This 
was the seat of Oriental luxury and art • but when the 
greater robber drove out the lesser, its pleasant places 
were all defiled ; the fountains were choked up, the porce- 
lain floors broken, the palm-trees cut down, and the gar- 
dens trampled into wildernesses. Richly did the land 
deserve a scourge, and never yet were found fitter ministers 
of wrath than those who visited it. 

We showed our colours in passing (a compliment which 
the fort did not condescend to return), and then stood out 
to sea against a heavy gale of wind. 

We must hurry past Tunis and desolate Carthage, but 
"not in silence pass Calypso's Isle." The appearance of 
this little paradise is far more suitable to its former than 
its present destination. It contains all the beauties of a 
continent in miniature : little mountains with craggy 
summits, little valleys with cascades and rivers, lawny 
meadows and dark woods, trim gardens and tangled vine- 
yards, silvery sands and craggy shores — all within a cir- 
cuit of five or six miles. In our eyes it was still the en- 
chanted island, and in our ears the faint sounds that came 
to us over the sunny sea were of shepherd's lute or 
woman's song ; but a fat gentleman in green spectacles 
called it Pantellaria, and informed us that it was the 
Botany Bay of Naples. 

One or two uninhabited little islands, that seem to have 
strayed from the continent and lost their way, speck the 
sea between this pleasant penal settlement and Gozo, 
which is also a claimant for the doubtful honour of 



22 



MALTA.. 



Calypso's Isle. Narrow straits separate it from tho ad 
joining rock, which represents the island of Malta. 

After a couple of hours' coasting, we entered a watery 
ravine of battery-crowned cliffs, and came to an anchor 
in the Grand Harbour. 

La Valetta is a sort of hybrid between a Spanish and 
an Eastern town ; most of its streets are flights of steps, 
to which the verandahs of the houses are like gigantic 
banisters. Its terraced roofs restore to the cooped-up 
citizens nearly all the space lost by building upon ; and 
there are probably not less than five hundred acres of 
promenadable roof in, or rather on, the city. The church 
of San Giovanni is very gorgeous, with its vaulted roof of 
gilded arabesque, its crimson tapestries, finely carved pul- 
pits, and its floor resembling one vast escutcheon ; being 
a mosaic of knightly tombs, on which the coats of arms are 
finely copied in coloured marble and precious stones. The 
chapel of the Madonna, in the Eastern aisle, is guarded 
by massive silver rails, saved from French rapacity by the 
-cunning of a priest, who painted them wood-colour. Not- 
withstanding all the wealth and splendour of this cathedral, 
its proudest and most chivairic ornament is a bunch of 
old rusty irons, suspended on the crimson tapestry. These 
are the keys of Rhodes ; and these the Order, overcome, 
but unconquered, carried away with them from their 
ancient seat, the bulwark of Christendom. 

The Hotels of the different nations (or Tongues, as they 
were called), are palaces that bear testimony to the taste 
and power of their former proprietors. The principal 
are the Auberges de Castile, and Provence ; and the 
palace of the Grand Master, now that of the British 
governor. The others are converted into barracks ; and 
probably the costumes of their olden time did not differ 
more from one another than those of its present military 
occupants — the dark green of the rifleman, the scarlet 
uniform of the 88th, and the varied garb of the Highlander 
" all plaided and plumed in his tartan array." Every 
costume of Europe, Asia, and Africa, is to be met with in 
the streets, which swarm with the most motley and pic- 
turesque population. The brilliant sunshine gives an 
almost prismatic effect to every object ; from the gor 



CITTA VECCIIIA. 



13 



geously clad Turk to the beautiful parrot- fish, streaked 
with every colour in the rainbow ; from ihe fruit and 
vegetables ranged on tables along the pave, to the roguish- 
looking children that persecute you with flowers. 

The population in both town and country abounds in a 
proportion eight times as great as that of England.* Being 
very frugal aud industrious, they are just able to keep 
themselves alive at present ; but what is to become of 
them a few years hence it is difficult to guess. The 
celibacy enjoined to the knights produced its usual 
licentious results ; and the Order bequeathed its morals 
to the present inhabitants — a legacy which does not tend 
to diminish their numbers. 

Many of the women are very beautiful, combining the 
gazelle eye of the East with the rich tresses of the North, 
and the statuesque profile of Greece and Italy. Their 
peculiar head-dress, the onnella, contributes not a little to 
the effect of their beauty. This is a black silk scarf, worn 
over the head like a veil, but gathered in on one side, so 
as not to eclipse the starry eyes which it seems always en- 
deavouring to cloud over. The old aristocracy, proud and 
poor, form a society among themselves, to which the 
English are seldom admitted. Nothing can be more 
melancholy-looking than their high-walled enclosures 
scattered over the island; in these, nevertheless, they 
maintain their exclusiveness and morgue in not undignified 
poverty. 

Leaving La Valetta for Citta Vecchia, we passed over 
and through fortifications of extraordinary strength, con- 

* Malta is about sixty miles in circumference, containing 130,000 
inhabitants. It is composed principally of magnesian limestone, and, 
being cultivated with great labour, produces oranges, cotton, indigo, 
saffron, sugar, and large quantities of melons, grapes, and other fruits 
of the soil of Sicily, which has been carried hither. Corn is grown 
in sufficient quantities to supply the island for six months : the 
rest is imported. Game is supplied by the little adjacent island of 
Comino. The population has nearly doubled since the island came 
into British occupancy. The revenue derived from the island is about 
<£ J 100,000, and the expenditure there about £88,000, exclusive, of 
course, of what the garrison and shipping expend. The Emperor 
Charles V. presented the island to the Knights Hospitallers, when 
:hey were dispossessed of Rhodes. 



14 



MALTA.. 



sisting principally of vast excavations made in the solid 
rock. The pretty gardens of Florian partly shelter the 
open space between these and the outer line of forti- 
fications. 

Thence we passed through what would be the dreariest 
country I ever beheld but for the brilliant sunshine always 
smiling over it. Scarcely a particle of vegetation shaded 
the brown, burning rock. Almost all the soil upon the 
island has been brought from Sicily, and is retained in 
little trays or shelves of terraces, built up with dull grey 
stones. We rode by the side of a well-built aqueduct, by 
which Valetta derives its supply of fresh water, except 
whatever maybe caught and contained in tanks within the 
walls. In the suburbs of Citta Vecchia, we entered a 
church, where about a score of priests were chanting mass. 
At a beckon from our Maltese guide, one of them in- 
stantly abandoned his occupation, doffed his surplice, and 
accompanied us to the Catacombs : these are of con- 
siderable extent, and probably of Phoenician origin. 

We groped our way with torches through long narrow 
passages, from which, on each side, opened crypts, hol- 
lowed out for the reception of the corpses. Some were 
made double, as if for the convenience of those who, even 
in death, would not be divided; some were cut into little 
cradles for dead children. Here and there were larger 
chambers with altars, and blood channels for sacrifice, or 
perhaps for washing the corpse. These corpses must 
have been embalmed, by-the-bye, or it would have been 
impossible for the living to enter this stifling labyrinth 
with their dead. 

These Catacombs scarcely repay the trouble and dis- 
agreeability of their examination, particularly to those who 
have seen the Catacombs of Rome and Syracuse. The 
deserted city of Citta Vecchia is much more interesting, 
and is, indeed, as far as I know, unique. 

Youpass along unguarded fortifications of great strength, 
and enter, by a broken drawbridge, into a stately but 
profoundly silent city. The houses are handsome, and in 
good repair; they seem to want only inhabitants to be 
homes once more. The palaces are magnificent, and appear 
the more imposing from the deep silence that invests their 



ALEXANDRIA, 



mysterious-looking walls. Grass and rank weeds are 
growing in the streets that echo to your horse's tread; and 
the wind sighs among the lonely pillars and porticoes, 
with that wailing sound so peculiar to deserted places. 

This was anciently the capital of the island ; removed 
first to Vittoria, and finally to its present position by La 
Valetta, from whom it derives its name. 

A little beyond Citta Yecchia is St. Paul's Bay, which, 
notwithstanding the arguments (ill-founded as it seems 
to me) of modern authors against Malta being the Melita 
of the apostle, retains the traditionary honour of which no 
pen and ink can now deprive it. On conversing with 
some of the natives as I rode ship wards, I found that 
they, like other people, had their good old times ("all 
times when old are good''), and these they consider to 
have been when the Order possessed their island. Being 
a mere populace, they would of course willingly exchange 
their present for their ancient, or for any other govern- 
ment. They are fain to forget their degraded condition 
under the knights, who prevented any native from en- 
tering their Order (or even the city, without permission); 
— who, being disdainful as incapable of a lawful connexion, 
took their daughters to be concubines, and exercised ar- 
bitrary power as scornfully as oppressively. If there is less 
foreign money* spent among the Maltese now, their tax- 
ation is far lighter. They have all the advantages of 
English laws as well as of their own; they sit on juries; 
are capable of serving in any department, and have a 
native regiment paid by the British government. Im- 
portant as this island now is to us, it was perhaps fortunate 
for England that a less scrupulous nation took that ad- 
vantage of the degeneracy of the Order and the imbecility 
of Hompesch which our ideas of justice might have for- 
bidden.f 

* The revenues of the Order, in its palmiest days, amounted to 
£3,000,000 sterling. 

f " The surrender of Malta had been preconcerted with the French 
Knights of the Order before Buonaparte sailed from Toulon. When 
he stood upon its ramparts, Caffarelli observed to him, ' General, it 
was very lucky that there were people in the town to open the gates 
for us.' " i( When we saw a smaU boat carry at hei ste*~ 



1 6 ALEXANDRIA- 



CHAPTER HI. 
ALEXANDRIA. 

Why dost thou build the hall, son of the wir.ged days ? Thou 
lookest from thy towers to-day: yet a few years, and the blast of 
the desert comes, it howls in thy empty courts. — Ossian. 

Towards evening, on the 18th day since leaving Eng- 
land, the low land of Egypt was visible from the mast- 
head. A heavy gale had been blowing ever since our 
departure from Malta, and, though a brilliant sun was 
shining, foam-clouds swept the decks, converted into rain- 
bows as they past. Not a sail appeared upon these lonely 
seas, that once swarmed with navies of war and commerce 
— the only object visible from the deck was a faint speck 
upon the horizon, but that speck was Pompey's Pillar. 

In the time of the Pharaohs, the Egyptians displayed as 
much jealousy of the Phoenicians and other Mediterranean 
navigators as the Celestial Empire has done in modern 
times with regard to "barbarians." Naucratis, at the 
Canopic mouth, was the Canton of Egypt in those days. 
Little business, however, seems to have been transacted 
there; the trade of the valley of the Nile looked only 
eastward; and Joseph received port-dues from Kosseir 
nearly 4000 years ago. 

Alexander found a colony of Greeks settled at Racotis; 
his keen perception at once discovered what we have only 
just found out, that this was in truth the seaport of all 
India. Dinocrates was commissioned to create a city, 
which the Macedonian invested with his name, and thus 
started into existence the haven of our search. 

It has been truly said that the ancient city "has be- 
queathed nothing but its ruins and its name" to the 
modern Alexandria. Though earth and sea remain un- 

the Standard of the Order, sailing humbly beneath the ramparts on 
which it had once defied all the forces of the East, I thought I heard 
the ghosts of L'isle Adam and La Valette venting dismal lamenta- 
tions; and fancied that I saw Time make to Philosophy the illustrious 
sacrifice of the most venerable of all illusions." — Denon, 



ALEXANDRIA. 



IT 



changed, imagination can scarcely find a place for the 
ancient walls, fifteen miles in circumference; the vast 
streets, through the vista of whose marble porticoes the 
galleys on Lake Mareotis exchanged signals with those 
upon the sea; the magnificent temple of Serapis on its 
platform of one hundred steps ; the four thousand palaces, 
and the homes of six hundred thousand inhabitants. 

All that is now visible within the shrunken and moulder- 
ing walls is a piebald town — one-half European, with its 
regular houses, tall, and white, and stiff ; the other half, 
Oriental, with its mud-coloured buildings and terraced 
roofs, varied with fat mosques and lean minarets. The 
suburbs are encrusted with the wretched hovels of the Arab 
poor ; and immense mounds and tracts of rubbish occupy 
the wide space between the city and its walls : all beyond 
is a dreary waste. Yet this is the site Alexander selected 
from his wide dominions, and which Napoleon pronounced 
to be unrivalled in importance. Here luxury and litera- 
ture, the Epicurean and the Christian, philosophy and com- 
merce, once dwelt together. Here stood the great library 
of antiquity, " the assembled souls of all that men held 
wise." Here the Hebrew Scriptures expanded into Greek 
under the hands of the Septuagint. Here Cleopatra, 
"vainqueur des vainqueurs du monde," revelled with her 
Roman conquerors. Here St. Mark preached the truth 
upon which Origen attempted to refine, and here Atha- 
na,sius held warlike controversy. Here Amru conquered, 
and here Abercrombie fell. Looking now along the shore, 
beneath me lies the harbour in the form of a crescent — 
the right horn occujued by the palace of the Pa-ha, his 
hareem, and a battery; the left, a long, low sweep of land, 
alive with windmills; in the centre is the city: to the 
westward, the flat, sandy shore stretches monotonously 
away to the horizon; to the eastward, the coast merges into 
Aboukir Bay. 

Having taken this general view of our first Egyptian 
city, let us enter it in a regular manner to view it in 
detail. The bay is crowded with merchant vessels of every 
nation, among which tower some very imposing-looking 
three-deckers, gigantic, but dismantled; the red flag with 
the star and crescent flying from the peak. Men-of-war 



18 



THE NILE. 



barges slioot past you with crews dressed in what look like 
red nightcaps and white petticoats. They rise to their 
feet at every stroke of the oar, and pull all out of time. 
Here, an " ocean patriarch " (as the Arabs call .Noah), 
with white turban and flowing beard, is steering a very 
little ark filled with unclean-looking animals of every 
description; and there, a crew of swarthy Egyptians, naked 
from the waist upward, are pulling some pale-faced 
strangers to a vessel with loosened top-sails, and blue-peter 

At length, amid a deafening din of voices, and a pestilen- 
tial effluvia from dead fish and living Arabs, you fight 
your way ashore ; and if you had just awakened from a 
sleep of ages, you could scarcely open your eyes upon a 
scene more different from those you have lately left. The 
crumbling quays are piled with bales of eastern merchan- 
dize, islanded in a sea of white turbans wreathed over 
dark, melancholy faces. Vivid eyes glitter strangely upon 
solemn-looking and bearded countenances. High above 
the variegated crowd peer the long necks of hopeless- 
looking camels. Wriggling and struggling amidst all this 
mass were picturesquely ragged little boys, dragging after 
them shaven donkeys with carpet saddles, upon one of 
which you suddenly find yourself seated with scarcely a 
volition of your own ; and are soon galloping along filthy 
lanes, vdth blank, white, windowless and doorless walls on 
either side, and begin to wonder when you are to arrive 
at the Arab city. You have already passed through it, 
and are emerging into the Frank quarter, a handsome 
square of tall white houses, over which the flags of every 
nation in Europe denote the residences of the various 
consuls. In this square is an endless variety of races and 
costumes, most picturesquely grouped together, and lighted 
brilliantly by a glowing sun in a cloudless sky. In one 
place, a drove of camels are kneeling down, with jet black 
slaves in white turbans, or crimson caps, arranging their 
burdens; in another, a procession of women waddles along, 
wrapped in large shroud-like veils from head to foot, with 
a long black bag, like an elephant's trunk, suspended from 
their noses, and permitting only their kohl-stained eyes to 
appear. In another, a group of Turks in long flowing 



THE NILE. 



19 



drapery are seated in a circle smoking their chibouques in 
silence, and enjoying society after the fashion of other gre- 
garious animals ; grooms in petticoat trousers are leading 
horses with crimson velvet saddles richly embroidered; a 
detachment of sad- looking soldiers in white cotton uniform 
is marching by to very wild music; and here and there a 
Frank with long moustaches is lounging about, contemplat- 
ing these unconscious tableaux as if they had been got up 
simply for his amusement. 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE NILE— ITS BATTLE. 

The Nile ! the Nile ! I hear its gathering roar, 
No vision now, no dream of ancient years — 

Throned on the rocks, amid the watery war, 

The King of Floods, old Homers' Nile, appears, 

"With gentle smile, majestically sweet, 

Curbing the billowy steeds that vex them at his feet. 

Lord Ltndsay. 

The spirit of our fathers 

Shall start from every wave ; 
For the deck it was their field of fame, 

And ocean was their grave. 

Campbell. 

"Egypt is the gift of the Nile," said one* who was 
bewildered by its antiquity before our History was born 
(at least, he is called the father of it). A bountiful gift 
it was, that the "strange, mysterious, solitary stream" 
bore down in its bosom from the luxuriant tropics to 
the desert. For many an hour have I stood upon the 
city-crowning citadel of Cairo, and gazed unweariedly on 
the scene of matchless beauty and wonder that lay stretched 
beneath my view : cities and ruins of cities, palm-forests 
and green savannahs, gardens, and palaces, and groves of 
olive. On one side, the boundless desert, with its pyra- 
* Herodotus. 

C 2 



20 



THE INUNDATION. 



inids; on the other, the land of Goshen, "with its luxuriant 
plain s, stretching far away to the horizon. 

Yet this is an exotic land ! That river, winding like a 
serpent through its paradise, has brought it from far 
regions, unknown to man. That strange and richly-varied 
panorama has had a long voyage of it ! Those quiet plains 
have tumbled down the cataracts: those demure gardens 
have flirted with the Isle of Flowers/' five hundred miles 
away; those very pyramids have floated down the waves 
of Nile. To speak chemically, that river is a solution 
of Ethiopia's richest regions, and that vast country is 
merely a precipitate. At Paastumf one sees the remnant 
of a city elaborated from mountain streams; the Temple of 
Neptune came down from the Calabrian Hills, by water; 
and the Forum, like Demosthenes, prepared itself for its 
tumult-scorning destiny among the dash of torrents, and 
the crash of rocks: but here we have a whole kingdom, 
risen, like Aphrodite, from the wave. 

The sources of this wonderful river are still veiled in 
mystery — it is the very heroine of geographical romance, 
often and warmly wooed, but never won. Wax has tried 
to ravish her by force, and Commerce to bribe her by its 
gold; but the Naiad of the Nile is virgin still. The 
remotest inhabitants seem to know as little of its origin, 
yet more remote: I have conversed with slave-dealers 
familiar with Abyssinia as far as the Galla country, and 
still their information was bounded by that vague word — 
South: still from the South gushed the great river. 

This much is certain that, from the junction of the 
Taccaze or Astaboras, the Nile runs a course of upwards 
of twelve hundred miles to the sea, without one tributary 
stream. J During this career, it is exposed to the evapora- 
tion of a burning sun, drawn off into a thousand canals, 
absorbed by porous banks and thirsty sands, drunk of by 
every living thing, from the crocodile to the pasha, from 
the papyrus to the palm-tree : and yet, strange to say, it 

* Elephantina. 

f For an account of the formation of the travertine of which Psestam 
was built, see Sir Humphrey Davy's " Last Days of a Philosopher." 

X " Exemple unique dans L'iustoire hydrogrc-pbique du monde." — 
Humboldt. 



THE BATTLE. 



21 



seems to pour into the sea a wider stream than it displays 
between the cataracts a thousand miles away. 

The Nile is all in all to the Egyptian : if it withheld its 
waters for a week, his country would become a desert; it 
waters and manures his fields, it supplies his harvests, and 
then carries off their produce to the sea for exportation : 
be drinks of it, he fishes in it, he travels on it : it is his 
slave, and used to be his god. Egyptian mythology recog- 
nised in it the Creative Principle, and poetically engaged 
it in eternal war with the desert, under the name of 
Typhon, or the Destructive Principle. Divine honours 
were paid to this aqueous deity; and it is whispered 
among mythologists that the heart's-blood of a virgin was 
yearly added to its stream ; — not unlikely, in a country 
where they worshipped crocodiles, and were anxious to 
consult their tastes. 

The Arab looks upon all men as aliens who were not 
fortunate enough to be born beside the Nile; and the 
traveller is soon talked into a belief that it affords the 
most delicious water in the world. Shiploads of it are 
annually sent to Constantinople for the Sultan's hareem, 
where it is in great request, not only on epicurean, but 
anti-Malthusian grounds. The natives dignify their belo- 
ved river with the title of " El Bahr," the sea; and pass 
one-third of their lives in watching the flow, and the 
remainder in watching the ebb, of its mighty tide. The 
inundation begins in May, attains its full height in 
August, and thenceforth diminishes, until freshly swollen 
in the following year. The stream, economized within its 
channel as far as the first cataract, spreads abroad its 
beneficent deluge over the vast valley. Then it is that 
Egypt presents the most striking of its Protean aspects, 
becoming an archipelago studded with green islands, and 
bounded only by the chain of the Lybian Hills and the 
purple range of the Mokattam Mountains. Every island is 
crowned with a village, or an antique temple, and shadowy 
with palm-trees or acacia groves. Every city becomes a 
Venice, and the bazaars display their richest and gayest 
cloths and tapestries to the illuminations that are reflected 
from the streaming streets. The earth is sheltered from 
the burning sun under the cool bright veil of waters; the 



22 



THE BATTLE. 



labour of the husbandman is suspended, and it is the season 
of universal festivity. Boatmen alone are busy, but it 
would seem to be pleasant business; for the sound of music 
is never silent beneath those large, white sails, that now 
glitter in the moonlight, and now gleam ruddily, reflecting 
the fragrant watchfires on the deck. 

This picture is of rare occurrence, however — the inun- 
dation seldom rising to a height greater than what is 
necessary for purposes of irrigation, and presenting, alas ! 
rather the appearance of a swamp than of an archipelago. 

As the waters retire, vegetation seems to exude from 
every pore. Previous to its bath, the country, like Pelias, 
looked shrivelled, and faded, and worn out : a few days 
after — and old Egypt looks as good as new, wrapped in a 
richly green mantle embroidered with flowers. 

As the Nile has everything his own way throughout 
his wide domains, he is capricious in proportion, and gives 
spring in October, and autumn in February. Another 
curious freak of his is to make his bed in the highest part 
of the great valley through which he runs : this bed is a 
sort of savings'-bank, by means of which the deposits of 
four thousand years have enabled him to rise in the world, 
and to run along a causeway of his own. 

Formerly, when vexed by the armaments of a Sesostris or 
the priestly pageants of a Pharaoh, the Nile required seven 
months to vent its murmurs to the sea. In modern times, 
it finds two sufficient : Damietta, of crusading memory, 
presides over one, and Rosetta, in Arabic "el Rashid," the 
birth-place of our old friend, Haroun, takes advantage of 
the other. The former is waited upon by Lake Menzaleh, 
where alone the real ibis and papyrus are now found — the 
latter looks eastward on Lake Bourlos, and westward over 
Aboukir Bay, of glorious memory. 

'Tis an old story now, that Battle of the Nile — but a 
brave story can never die of age; and, as the traveller 
passes by these silent and deserted shores, that have twice 
seen England's flag " triumphant over wave and war," he 
lives again in the stirring days when the scenery before 
him was the arena whereon France and England con- 
tended for the empire of the East. 

The Bay is wide, but dangerous from shoals: the line of 



TIIE BATTLE. 



23 



deep blue water, and the old castle of Aboukir, map out 
the position of the French fleet on the first of August, 
1798. Having landed Buonaparte and his army, Bruejs 
lay moored in the form of a crescent, close along the shore. 
His vastly superior force,*' and the strength of his position 
(protected towards the northward by dangerous shoals, and 
towards the westward by the castle and batteries), made 
him consider that position impregnable : and, on the 
strength of this conviction, he wrote to Paris that Nelson 
had purposely avoided him. Was he undeceived, when 
Hood, in the Zealous, made signal that the enemy was in 
sight, and a cheer of triumph burst from every ship in 
the British fleet? — that fleet which had swept the seas 
with bursting sails for six long weeks in search of its 
formidable foe, and now bore down upon him with fear- 
less exultation. 

Nelson had long been sailing in battle-order, and he 
now only lay-to in the offing till the rearward ships should 
come up. The soundings of that dangerous bay were un- 
known to him, but he knew that where there was room 
for a French ship to swing, there must be room for an 
Englishman to anchor at either side of him, and the closer 
the better. 

As his proud and fearless fleet came on, he hailed Hood, 
to ask his opinion as to whether the action should com- 
mence that night ; then, receiving the answer that he longed 
for, the signal for " close battle " flew from his mast-head. 

The delay thus caused to the Zealous gave Foley the 
lead j he showed the example of leading inside the enemy's 
line, and anchored by the stern alongside the second ship, 
thus leaving to Hood the first. The latter, putting his 
own generous construction on an accident, exclaimed, 
u Thank God, he has nobly left to his old friend still to 
lead the van 1" Slowly and majestically, as the evening 
fell, the remainder of the fleet came on beneath a cloud of 
sail, receiving the fire of the castle and the batteries in 
portentous silence, only broken by the crash of spars, or 
the boatswain's whistle ; each ship furling her sails calmly, 
as a sea-bird might fold its wings, and gliding tranquilly 
onward till she found her destined foe. Then the anchor 
* Nearly as three to two. 



24 



TUT, BATTLE 



dropped astei n, and the fire burst from her bloody decks 
with a vehemence that showed how sternly it had been 
repressed till then. 

The leading ships passed between the enemy and the 
shore ; but, when the admiral came up, he led the re- 
mainder of the fleet along the seaward side, thus doubling 
on the Frenchman's line, and placing it in a defile of fire. 
The sun went down soon after Nelson anchored ; and his 
rearward ships were only guided through the darkness and 
the dangers of that formidable bay by the Frenchman's 
fire-flashing fierce welcome, as each enemy arrived and 
went hovering along the line, as he coolly scrutinized how 
he might draw most of that fire upon himself. The Bel- 
lerophon, with reckless gallantry, fastened on the gigantic 
Orient, by whose terrible artillery she was soon crushed 
and scorched into a wreck. Then she drifted helplessly to 
leeward, but she had already done her work; — the French 
admiral's ship w r as on fire, and through the roar of battle 
a wmisper went for a moment that paralyzed every eager 
heart and hand : during that dread pause, the fight was 
suspended, the very wounded ceased to groan — yet the 
burning ship still continued to fire broadsides from her 
flaming decks — her gallant crew alone unawed by their 
approaching fate, and shouting their own brave requiem. 
At length, the terrible explosion came ; and the column 
of flame that shot upw r ard into the very sky for a moment 
rendered visible the whole surrounding scene, from the 
red flags aloft to the reddened decks below — the wide 
shore, with all itssw r arthy crowds, and the far-off glittering 
sea, with the torn and dismantled fleets. Then darkness 
and silence came again, broken only by the shower of 
blazing fragments in w T hich that brave ship fell upon the 
waters. 

Till that moment, Nelson was ignorant how the battle 
went. He knew that every man was doing his duty, but 
he knew not how successfully; he had been wounded in 
the forehead, and found his way unnoticed to the deck 
in the suspense of the coming explosion. Its light was 
a fitting lamp for eye like his to read by. He saw his 
own proud flag still floating every where; and at the same 
moment his crew recognised their wounded chief. Their 



MAHM0UD1EII CANAL. 



25 



cheer of welcome was only drowned in the renewed roar 
of their artillery, which continued until it no longer found 
an answer, and silence had confessed destruction. 

Morning rose upon an altered scene. The sun had set 
upon as proud a fleet as ever sailed from the gay shores 
of France : torn and blackened hulls now only marked the 
position they had then occupied; and where their admi- 
ral's ship had been, the blank sea sparkled in the sunshine. 
Two ships of the line and two frigates escaped, to be cap- 
tured soon afterwards ; but within the bay the tricolor 
was flying on board the Tonuant alone. As the Theseus 
approached to attack her, attempting to capitulate, she 
hoisted a flag of truce : " Your battle -flag — or none !" was 
the stern reply, as her enemy rounded-to, and the matches 
glimmered over her line of guns. Slowly and reluctantly, 
like an expiring hope, that pale flag fluttered down from 
her lofty spars, and the next that floated there was the 
banner of old England. 

And now the battle was over — India was saved upon the 
shores of Egypt — the career of Buonaparte was checked,* 
and his navy was annihilated. Seven years later, that 
navy was revived, to perish utterly at Trafalgar — a fitting 
hecatomb for the obsequies of Nelson, whose life seemed to 
terminate as his mission was then and thus accomplished. 

Arrived at Alexandria, the traveller is yet far distant 
from the Nile. The Canopic mouth was long ago closed 
up by the mud of ^Ethiopia, and the Arab conquerors of 
Egypt were obliged to form a canal to connect this sea- 
port with the river. Under the Mamelukes, this canal 
also had become choked up ; and, her communication with 
the great vivifying stream thus ceasing, Alexandria lan- 
guished — while Rosetta, like a vampire, fed on her decay, 
and, notwithstanding her shallow waters, swelled suddenly 
to importance. 

* " Le principal but de I'expedition des Fran^ais en Orient, etait 
d'abaisser la puissance Anglaise. C'est du Nil que devait partir 
Tarmee qui allait donner de nouvelles destinees aux Indes . . . Les 
Fran^ais une fois maitres des portes de Corfou, de Malte, et d* Alexan- 
dre, la Mediterranee devenait un lac Fran§ais." — Memoires de 
Napol4on. 



26 



SCENERY OF THE NILE. 



When Mehemet Ali rose to power, his clear intellect 
at once comprehended the importance of the ancient 
emporium. Alexandria was then become a mere harbour 
for pirates — the desert and the sea were gradually en- 
croaching on its boundaries — but the Pasha ordered the 
desert to bring forth corn, and the sea to retire, and the 
mandate of this Eastern Canute was no idle word — it acted 
like an incantation to the old Egyptian spirit of great 
works. Up rose a stately city, containing 60,000 inhabi- 
tants, and as suddenly yawned the canal, which was to 
connect the new city with the Nile, and enable it to fulfil 
its destinies of becoming the emporium of three quarters 
of the globe. 

We embarked in a canal boat (there is now a steamer), 
and passed, for some miles, along a causeway that sepa- 
rates the salt-water Lake Maadee from Lake Mareotis ; 
nothing can be more desolate than the aspects of these two 
lonely lakes, stretching, with their low swampy shores, 
away to the horizon : they seem to have been born for 
one another ; though the Pharaohs, like poor-law guar- 
dians, saw fit to separate them; their object, however — 
the reverse of the said poor-law — being to render Mareotis 
prolific. A vast mound was raised, which kept the salt- 
lake at a respectful distance; and, until the English inva- 
sion in 1801, or at least until the eighteenth century, the 
greater part of Mareotis was a fertile plain. 

Buonaparte, after having defeated the Mamelukes at 
the Pyramids, had taken possession of Cairo. Having 
denied Christ in Europe, he acknowledged Mahomet in 
Asia; having butchered his prisoners at Jaffa, he was de- 
feated by the Butcher* Pasha and Sir Sydney Smith, at 
Acre; having poisoned part of that army whom he called 
his " children," he started for Paris, and left the remainder 
to encounter alone those " storms that might veil his fame's 
ascending star."t That remainder occupied Cairo, under 
the gallant and illfated Kleber. He had accepted, and 
was preparing to act upon, terms of capitulation from 
the Turks, which Lord Keith had, however, refused to 
ratify. The moment Sir Sydney Smith learned the Eng- 
lish admiral's determination, he took upon himself to 
*Djezzar, Arabic for 14 butcher." f Sir J, Hanmer. 



ATI EH. 



2? 



inform Kleber of the fact, arid advised him to hold his 
position. The Turks exclaimed against this chivalrous 
notice as a treachery, and there were not a few found in 
England to echo the same cry; but the spirit that dictated 
the British sailor's act was understood in the deserts — a 
voice went forth among the tents of the Bedouin and the 
palaces of the despot, that England preferred honour to 
advantage. Battles, since then, have been fought, and 
been forgotten — nations have come and gone, and left no 
trace behind them — but the memory of that noble truth- 
fulness remained, expanding into a national characteristic; 
and at this hour in the streets of Cairo our countrymen 
may hear the Arabs swear " by the honour of an English- 
man/* SK/L I sOUS »S*Jdb li-ASiSrdL+L % fr^jMsi, l^L\rc<^C^A^ i 

It was midnight when we arrived at Atfeh, the point 
of junction with the Nile ; and a regular African storm, 
dark and savage, was howling among the mud-built houses 
when we disembarked there, ankle-deep in slime. A 
crowd of half-naked, swarthy Arabs, with flaring torches, 
looked as if they were Pluto's police ready to escort us to 
the realms of darkness, jabbering and shouting violently, 
in chorus with the barking of the wild dogs, the roaring 
of the wind, and the growling of the camels, as a hail- 
storm of boxes and portmanteaus were showered on their 
backs ; donkeys were braying, women shrieking, English- 
men cursing sonorously; and the lurid moon, as she hurried 
through the clouds, seemed a torch waved by some fury, to 
light up this scene of infernal confusion. 

We are now upon the sacred river — but it is too dark 
to see its waters gleam, and the shrieking of the steamer 
prevents us from hearing its waters flow. Alas ! — What 
a paragraph ! And, is it possible, ye Naiads of the Nile, 
that your deified stream must now be harrowed up by a 
greasy, grunting steamship, like the parvenues rivers of 
vulgar Europe 1 That stream — that, gushing from beyond 
the Emerald Mountains, scatters gold around it in its 
youth — that has borne the kings of India to worship at 
ancient Meroe — murmured beneath the cradle of Moses, 
and foamed round the golden prow of Cleopatra's barge ! 
Unhappy river ! Thou, who, like Ixion, in thy warm 

\ ^ith&Q/yrX, rrV^^xMj^ j)uvv ^vyU4^ Vv\>H^ fytfy^S^ *lA*&&i 

r^£W„ t^Wi e/v~vv<^tvyt*l t^c/>3Ju^vei • 



28 



SCENERY OF THE NILE. 



youth bast loved the gorgeous clouds of Ethiopia, must 
now expiate thy raptures on the wheel. Yes ! for thy 
old days of glory are gone by ; thy veil of mystery is rent 
away, and with many another sacrificial victim of the 
ideal to the practical, thou must, forsooth, become useful 
and respectable, and convey cockneys ! 

We were soon fizzing merrily up the stream; and, after 
a night spent upon the hard boards in convulsive but 
vain attempts to sleep, we hurried on deck to see the sun 
shine over this renowned river. Must I confess it 2 We 
could see nothing but high banks of dark mud, or swamps 
of festering slime, with here and there a dead buffalo, that 
lay rotting on the river's edge, half devoured by a flock 
of goitrous-looking vultures. In some hours, however, 
we emerged * from the Rosetta branch, on which we had 
hitherto been boiling our way to the great river, and 
henceforth the prospect began to improve. Villages shel- 
tered by graceful groups of palm-trees, mosques, santons' 
tombs, green plains, and at length the desert — the most 
imposing sight in the world, except the sea. The day 
past slowly ; the view had little variety ; the wild fowl 
had ascertained the range of an English fowling-piece ; 
the dinner was as cold as the climate would permit ) the 
plates had no knives and forks, and an interesting-looking 
lady had a drum-stick between her teeth, as I pointed out 
to her the scene of the battle of the Pyramids, which now 
rose upon our view. 

That sight restores us to good humour: we felt that we 
were actually in Egypt. 

* The Delta is seldom visited by travellers, who hurry over the 
less interesting objects on their arrival, and are pretty well tired of 
Egypt on their return. Nevertheless, many ruins, and some boar- 
shooting, will well repay the antiquary and the sportsman in their 
respective vocations. 



CAIRO. 



CHAPTER V. 

CAIRO — ITS PORT-VIEW FROM WITHOUT— WITHIN— 
THE CITADEL. 

While far as sight can reach, beneath as clear 
And blue a heaven as ever blessed this sphere, 
Gardens, and minarets, and glittering domes, 
And high-built temples, fit to be the homes 
Of mighty gods, and pyramids whose hour 
Out-lasts all time, above the waters tower. 

Moore. 

Morning found us anchored off Boulac, the port of 
Cairo. Taward the river, it is faced by factories and 
storehouses; within, you find yourself in a labyrinth of 
brown, narrow streets, that resemble rather rifts in some 
mud-mountain than anything with which architecture has 
had to do. Yet, here and there, the blankness of the 
walls is broken and varied by richly worked lattices, and 
specimens of arabesque masonry. Gaudy bazaars strike 
the eye and relieve the gloom, and the picturesque popu- 
lation that swarms everywhere keeps the interest awake. 

On emerging from the lanes of Boulac, Cairo, Grand 
Cairo ! opens on the view : and never yet did fancy flash 
upon the poet's eye a more superb illusion of power and 
beauty than the "city of Victory'* presents from this 
distance. The bold range of Mokattam mountains is pur- 
pled by the rising sun ; its craggy summits are cut clearly 
out against the glowing sky, as it runs like a promontory 
into an ocean of verdure; here, wavy with a breezy plan- 
tation of olives; there, darkened with acacia groves. 
Just where the mountain sinks upon the plain, the citadel 
stands upon its last eminence; and, widely spread beneath 
it, lies the city, a forest of minarets with palm-trees inter- 
mingled, and the domes of innumerable mosques rising 
like enormous bubbles over the sea of houses. Here and 
there, richly green gardens are islanded within the sea, and 

* n El Kahira," the Arabic epithet of this city, means " the Vic- 
torious;" whence our word Cairo: in Arabic, " Misr.* 3 



30 



CAIRO. 



the whole is girt round with picturesque towers and ram- 
parts, occasionally revealed through vistas of the wood 
of sycamores and fig-trees that surround it. It has been 
said that " God the first garden made, aud the first city, 
Cain;" here, both creations seem commingled with the 
happiest effect. 

The approach to Cairo is a spacious avenue lined with 
the olive or the sycamore ; here and there, the white 
marble of a fountain gleams through the foliage, or a 
palm-tree waves its plumy head above the santon's tomb. 
Along this highway a masquerading-looking crowd is 
swarming towards the city; ladies wrapped closely in 
white veils, women of the lower class canying water on 
their heads, and covered only with a long blue garment, 
that reveals too plainly the exquisite symmetry of the 
young, and the hideous deformity of the elders ; here, are 
camels perched upon by black slaves, magpied with white 
napkins round their head and loins ; there, are portly 
merchants, with turbans and long pipes, gravely smoking 
on their knowing-looking donkeys : here, an Arab dashes 
through the crowd at full gallop, or a European, still more 
haughtily, shoves aside the pompous-looking, bearded 
throng. Water-carriers, calenders, Armenians, barbers, — 
all the dramatis personal of the Arabian Nights, are 
there. 

And now we reach the city wall, with its towers as 
strong as mud can make them. It must not be supposed 
that this mud architecture is of the same nature that the 
expression would convey in Europe. No ! — overshadowed 
by palm-trees, and a crimson banner with its star and 
crescent waving from the battlements, and camels couched 
beneath its shade, and swarthy Egyptians in many-coloured 
robes, reposing in every niche ; all this makes a mud wall 
appear a very respectable fortification in this land of 
illusion. 

And now we are within the city ! Protean powers ! 
what a change ! A labyrinth of dark, filthy, intricate 
lanes and alleys; in which every smell and sight from 
which nose and eye revolt meet one at every turn, (and 
one is always turning). The stateliest streets are not 
above twelve feet wide; and, as the upper stories arch 



THE STREETS OF CAIRO. 



81 



over them toward one another, only a narrow serpentine 
seam of blue sky appears between the toppling verandahs 
of the winding streets. Occasionally, a string of camels, 
bristling with faggots of firewood, sweeps the streets 
effectually of their passengers ; lean, mangy dogs are con- 
tinually running between your legs, which afford a 
tempting passage in this petticoated place ; beggars, in 
rags quivering with vermin, are lying in every corner of 
the street; now a bridal, or a circumcising procession, 
squeezes along, with music that might madden a drum- 
mer ; now the running footmen of some bey or pasha 
endeavour to jostle you towards the wall; unless they 
recognise you as an Englishman — one of that race whom 
they think the devil himself can't frighten, or teach 
manners to. 

Notwithstanding all these annoyances, however, the 
streets of Cairo present a source of unceasing amusement 
and curiosity to the stranger. It has not so purely an 
Oriental character as Damascus, and the intermixture of 
Europeans gives it a character of its own, and affords far 
wider scope for adventure than the secluded and solemn 
capital of Syria. The bazaars are very vivid and varied, 
and each is devoted to a peculiar class of commodities : 
thus you have the Turkish, the Persian, the Frank 
bazaars; the armourers', the weavers', the jewellers' 
quarters. These bazaars are, for the most part, covered 
in, and there is a cool and quiet gloom about them 
which is very refreshing; there is also an air of profound 
repose in the turbaned merchants as they sit cross-legged 
on their counters, embowered by the shawls and silks of 
India and Persia; they look as if they were for ever 
sitting for their portraits, and seldom move a muscle, 
unless it be to breathe a cloud of smoke from their 
bearded lips, or to turn their vivid eyes upon some 
expected customer — those eyes that seem to be the only 
living part of their countenance. 

If you make a purchase of any value, your merchant 
will probably offer you a pipe, and make room for you 
to seat yourself on his counter. If you are sufficiently 
citoyen du monde to accept the hospitality, you will be 
repayed by a very pleased look on the part of your host, 



32 THE BAZAARS. 

and a pipe of such tobacco as only these squatters of 
the East can procure. The curious and varied drama of 
Oriental life is acted before you, as you tranquilly puff 
away, and add to the almost imperceptible yet fragrant 
cloud that fills the bazaar. Now, by your host's order, a 
little slave presents you with a tiny cup of rich coffee, 
and you raise your hand to your head as you accept it; 
your entertainer repeats the gesture, and mutters a prayer 
for your health. 

Let us purchase an embroidered vest, or a silk scarf 
from the venerable Abou Habib, for the sake of his snow- 
white beard and turban. He makes a movement, as if to 
rise, of which there is as little chance as of the sun at 
midnight; he points to the carpet on which he "hopes 
to Allah that your beneficent shadow may fall." You 
ascend his counter, and sit down in the place and attitude 
of a tailor with perfect gravity. Your dragoman lounges 
at the door, to explain the sights that pass in the streets, 
or the sounds that issue from the lips of your entertainer. 
Conversation is not considered a necessary part of a visit, 
or of agreeability; and if you will only stay quiet, and 
look pleased, you may pass for a very agreeable person. 
You have, therefore, full leisure for observation, while you 
are enjoying society d V orientate. 

Let us make a purchase, and accept the pipe graciously 
offered by our merchant. Then, in the absence of any 
claim on our ears, let us use our eyes and look about us. 
A house is being rebuilt nearly opposite; masons, in 
turbans and long blue chemises, and red slippers down at 
the heel, are engaged, as if in pantomime, with much 
gesticulation, but little effect: a score of children are 
supplying bricks and mortar in little handfuls, chanting 
a measured song, as if to delude themselves into the idea 
that they are at play. Now, a durweesh, naked except 
for a napkin, or a bit of sheepskin round his loins, 
presents himself, claiming rather than asking alms: his 
wild, fierce eyes, in which the gleaming of insanity 
conveys their title to your forbearance, and to the 
Moslem's reverence — his long, matted, filthy hair, falling 
over his naked, sun-scorched shoulders — and his savage 
gluttony — proclaim his calling — a something between a 



STREET-SCENES. 



33 



friar and a saint of Islam. Here, is a water-carrier, with 
his jar of cool sherbet, adorned with fresh flowers: he 
tinkles little brazen saucers to announce his progress, and 
receives half a farthing for each draught. There, is a 
beggar devouring his crust, but religiously leaving a 
portion of it in some clean spot for the wild dogs. Now, 
an old man stoops to pick up a piece of paper, and to put 
it by, "lest," says he, "the name of God be written on 
it, and it be defiled." Here, is a lady of some hareem, 
mounted a la Turque on her donkey, and attended by her 
own slave, and her husband's eunuch; she might seem to 
be a mere bundle of linen, but that a pair of brilliant 
eyes relieve the ghastly appearance that might figure well 
in a tableau as an Irish " Banshee." 

All these, and a thousand other quaint personages, are 
perpetually passing and repassing, with hand upon the 
heart as they meet an acquaintance, or on the head if 
they meet a superior. But it is time to return our pipes, 
and to pursue our researches through the city. 

Mean-looking and crowded as is the greater part of 
Cairo, there are some extensive squares and stately 
houses. Among the former is the Esbekeyeh, by which 
you enter the city, a place about a mile in circumference, 
occupied by a large plantation, divided by straight 
avenue>, and surrounded by a dirty canal. A wide road, 
shaded by palm and sycamore trees, borders this canal, 
forming a street of tall, mud-coloured houses of very 
various architecture, but delicately and elaborately carved. 
The best buildings in the Esbekeyeh are the palaces of 
Ibrahim and Abbas Pasha, and the new Hotel d "Orient, 
in which we had pleasant apartments: — they looked over 
a cemetery, it is true, which was haunted by tribes of 
ghoul-like dogs; but beyond this were gardens and kiosks, 
and palm-groves, and a glimpse of the Nile, and, above 
all, the Pyramids, far in the distance, yet by their mag- 
nitude curiously confounding the perspective. The Rou- 
meleyeh is another wide space, where fairs and markets 
are held, criminals executed, and other popular amuse- 
ments celebrated. The most interesting building in Cairo 
is undoubtedly the citadel, overlooking the city, and con- 
taining Mehemet Ali's " town-house." Here are the re- 

D 



MASSACRE OF THE MAMELUKES. 



mains of Saladin's palace, and the commencement of a 
magnificent mosque, from whose terraced roof there is 
perhaps the finest view in the world. All Lower Egypt 
lies spread out, as in a map, before you — one great 
emerald, set in the golden desert, bossed vrith the 
mountains that surround it.* 

To me, the most interesting spot within these crime- 
stained precincts was that where the last of the Mame- 
lukes escaped from the bloody treachery of Mehemet Ali. 
Soon after the Pasha was confirmed by the Porte in the 
viceroyalty of Egypt, he summoned the Mameluke Beys 
to a consultation on the approaching war against the 
Wahabees in Arabia. As his son Toussoun had been 
invested with the dignity of Pasha of the second order, 
the occasion was one of festivity as well as business. 
The Beys came, mounted on their finest horses, in magni- 
ficent uniforms, forming the most superb cavalry in the 
world. After a very flattering reception from the Pasha, 
they were requested to parade in the court of the citadel. 
They entered the fortification unsuspectingly — the port- 
cullis fell behind the last of the proud procession : a 
moment's glance revealed to them their doom: they 
dashed forwards — in vain ! — before, behind, around them, 
nothing was visible but blank, pitiless walls and barred 
windows; the only opening was towards the bright blue 
sky; even that was soon darkened by their funeral pile 
of smoke, as volley after volley flashed from a thousand 
muskets behind the ramparts upon their defenceless and 
devoted band. Startling and fearfully sudden as was 
their death, they met it as became their fearless character 
■ — some with arms crossed upon their mailed bosoms, and 
turbaned heads devoutly bowed in prayer; some with 
flashing swords and fierce curses, alike unavailing against 

* There is in this citadel a place of great interest to antiquarian 
cockneys, because it is called Joseph's Well, although owing its origin 
to the Saracen* — not the patriarch ; and also a respectable armoury of 
native workmanship, aprinting press, and a mint, which ccins annually 
about <£ J 200,000 sterling in gold. This citadel was built by Saladin, 
and was very strong from its position, before gunpowder gave tha 
command of it to a height further up on the Mokattam mountain. 



* Saladin's name was Youssoof, Arabic for Joseph. 



IIKLIOPCLIS. 



35 



their dastard aud ruthless foe. All that chivalrous and 
splendid throng, save one, sank rapidly beneath the deadly 
fire into a red and writhing mass — that one was Emini 
Bey. He spurred his charger over a heap of his slaughtered 
comrades, and sprang upon the battlements. It was a 
dizzy height, but the next moment he was in the air — 
another, and he was disengaging himself from his crushed 
and dying horse amid a shower of bullets. He escaped, 
and found safety in the sanctuary of a mosque, and ulti- 
mately in the deserts of the Thebaid. 

The objects of interest in the neighbourhood of Cairc 
are very numerous. Leaving for the present the Pyra- 
mids, let us canter oft to Heliopolis, the On of Scripture. 
It is only five miles of a pathway shaded by sycamore 
and plane-trees, from which we emerge occasionally into 
green savannahs, or luxuriant corn-fields, over which the 
beautiful white ibises are hovering in flocks. 

In Heliopolis, the Oxford of old Egypt, stood the great 
Temple of the Sun. Here the beautiful and the wise 
studied love and logic 4000 years ago. Here Joseph was 
married to the fair Asenath. Here Plato and Herodotus 
pursued philosophy and history ; and here the darkness 
that veiled the Great Sacrifice on Calvary was observed 
by a heathen astronomer.* We found nothing, however, 
on the site of this ancient city, except a small garden of 
orange-trees, with a magnificent obelisk in the centre. 

These obelisks seem never to have been isolated in the 
position for which they were originally hewn out of the 
granite quarries of Syene. They terminated avenues of 
columns or of statues, or stood in pairs before the entrance 
of the Propylea, and bore in hieroglyphic inscriptions the 
destination of the temples to which they belonged. 

People talk of the ruins of the temple of the Sun as 
being discoverable here ; and there are reports about a 
sphynx, but we could discover neither. Here is the gar- 
den of Metarieh, where grew the celebrated balm of Giiead, 
presented by the Queen of Sheba to Solomon, and brought 
to Egypt by Cleopatra. On our return towards Cairo, we 
were shown the fountain which refreshed and the tree 
which shaded the Holy Family in their flight to Egypt, 
* Dionysius, the Areopagite. 

D 2 



so 



GARDEN OF SHOOBRA. 



Another day we went to Shoobra, the palace and garden 
of Mehemet Ali. We rode along under a noble avenue of 
sycamores, just wide enough to preserve their shade, and, 
at the end of three miles, came to a low and unpretending 
gateway, picturesque, however, and covered with parasites. 
Without, were tents and troops, and muskets piled, and 
horses ready saddled; but within, all was peace and 
silence. 

A venerable gardener, with a long white beard, received 
us at the entrance, and conducted us through the fairy- 
like garden, of which he might have passed for the guardian 
genius. There were very few flowers ; but shade and 
greenery are everything in this glaring climate ; and it 
was passing pleasant to stroll along these paths all shadowy 
with orange-trees, whose fruit, " like lamps in a night of 
green," hung temptingly over our heads. The fragrance 
of large beds of roses mingled with that of the orange 
flower, and seemed to repose on the quiet airs of that calm 
evening. In the midst of the garden we came to a vast 
pavilion, glittering like porcelain, and supported on light 
pillars, forming cloisters that surrounded an immense marble 
basin, in the centre of which sparkling waters gushed from 
a picturesque fountain. Gaily painted little boats for the 
ladies of the hareem floated on the surface of this lake, 
through whose clear depths gleamed shoals of gold and 
silver fishes. In each corner of the building there w^ere 
gilded apartments, with divans, tables, mirrors, and all 
the simple furniture of an eastern palace, in which books 
or pictures are never found. * 

The setting sun threw his last shadows on the distant 
Pyramids as we lay upon the marble stej3S, inhaling the 
odours of the orange and pomegranate groves — dreamily 
listening to the vespers of the busy birds, the far-off hum 
of the city, and the faint murmur of the great river. 

The evening breeze was sighing among the palms and 

* The Koran is a library in itself to the Moslem. With respect 
to pictures, they take literally the injunction against " making a like- 
ness of anything in heaven or earth." Moreover, they suppose that 
every painter or sculptor will be bound at the resurrection to provide 
all his human creations with soul. Would that the Genius of modern 
art would accept this as an earthly obligation ! 



CHICKEN-HATCHING 



37 



the columns of the palace, when we started; a brilliant 
moon lighted our gallop back to Cairo, whose gates were 
long since closed, but opened easily to a bribe. 

In most cities we find a fringe of suburbs that prepares 
us for the transition from busy streets to silent fields; but 
at Damascus, Jerusalem, and Cairo, the moment you issue 
from the gates you are in the desert, and the hyaena and 
the Arab prowl within hearing of the citizen. In a lonely 
valley, about a mile from Cairo, stand the tombs of the 
Mamelukes : these are mausolean palaces of great beauty 
and the richest Saracenic architecture; they are now fast 
falling to decay, and only inhabited, or rather haunted, by 
some outcast Arabs and troops of wild dogs. They form 
a grand cemetery of their own, surrounded by the desert. 

About five miles beyond these tombs is the " petrified 
forest it is a vast, shelterless wilderness of sand, strewn 
with what seemed the chips of some gigantic carpenter's 
shop. There are no roots — much less any appearance of 
a standing tree. I have seen fragments of this petrified 
wood in other parts of the desert, which seemed to belong 
to the sycamore and palm-tree. They are found in the 
driest and most shelterless places, and when living must 
have had a hard time of it — exposed, like Niobe, to all 
the arrows of Apollo; why, however, like her, they should 
have turned to stone, not even the naturalists — those 
mycologists of phenomena — have attempted to explain. 

One of the sights which amused me most was a chicken- 
hatching oven. This useful establishment is at some dis- 
tance from the walls, and gives life to some millions of 
chickens annually. It seems that the hens of Egypt are 
not given to sedentary occupations; having been hatched 
themselves by machinery, they do not feel called upon to 
hatch. They seem to consider that they have discharged 
every duty to society in producing a mere egg : no domestic 
anxiety ruffles their bosoms; they care not whether their 
offspring becomes a fritter or a fowl, an omelette or a 
game-cock. We entered their foundling hospital — a 
gloomy and filthy hut, in which a woman was squatting, 
with a dark, little, naked imp at her bosom; she sat sentry 
over a hole in the wall, and insisted clamorously on back- 
sheesh; having satisfied her in this particular, we intro- 



88 



THE FEAST OF LANTERNS. 



duced ourselves, with considerable difficulty, into a narrow 
passage, on either side of which were three chambers, 
strewn with fine mould, and covered with eggs, among 
which a naked Egyptian walks delicately as Agag, whilst 
he turns thern with most hen-like anxiety. The heat 
was about 100°, the smell like that of Harrowgate water, 
and the floor covered with egg-shells and struggling chick- 
lings. The same heat is maintained day and night, and 
the same wretched hen-man passes his life in turning eggs. 
His fee is one-half the receipt; he returns fifty chickens 
for every hundred eggs that he receives. 

It was the feast of lanterns. As we strolled by the 
soft moonlight, under the avenues of sycamore and olive- 
trees that shadow the Esbekeyeh, we could see through 
the vistas an extensive encampment in the distance; innu- 
merable lamps of various colours, and painted lanterns, 
shone among the tents and the dark foliage; not only did 
they glitter on every bough, and on a thousand banners, 
but scaffoldings were raised, on which they hung in gar- 
lands and festoons of light. The very sky above them 
wore the appearance of a faint dawn: every glimpse of 
the canals, every leaf in all the grove, shone with their 
reflected radiance. Of course, we were soon struggling 
through the many-coloured crowd of the prophet's wor- 
shippers that thronged the encampment. 

A Moslem mob is good-tempered and patient beyond 
belief ; and that sea of turbans stagnated as calmly as if 
every wave of it was exactly in the position that he 
wished to occupy. Each tent was crowded to excess by 
performers or aspirants in a most singular religious cere- 
mony : a ring of men, standing so closely side by side 
that they supported each other in their exhausting devo- 
tions, were vehemently shouting " Allah/' or rather 
" Ullah," in chorus : they moved their bodies up. and down, 
keeping strict time to this monotonous chant, and exhal- 
ing their breath pantingly at every exclamation. Many 
were foaming at the mouth, some incoherent — all utterly 
exhausted ; and these fell, from time to time, among the 
crowd that was quietly squatted within their excited cir- 
cle; they were instantly succeeded by others, and this 



THE FEAST OF LANTERNS. 



proceeding continued till morning ; every tent had its 
tranquil mob of squatters, surrounded by a convulsive 
ring. None of the crowd appeared to take the slightest 
interest or curiosity about the business, before or after 
they had performed their own part. They then lighted 
their pipes, where they had room to do so, and gently 
struggled towards the flower-ornamented stalls, where 
coffee and sherbet were supplied. 

The next morning all Cairo was in movement to witness 
the ceremony of the Doseh, and we reached the Esbekeyeh 
just as the procession of Durweeshes advanced into the 
square, escorting their Sheikh, who alone was on horse- 
back. They marched in a close column, four abreast, 
waving flags belonging to the different districts in the 
town; and bearing a large green banner before the 
Sheikh, chief preacher at the mosque of Hassaneen. 
Under the guidance of our invaluable dragoman, Mah- 
moud, we struggled into the procession, forming a part 
of it, until it reached an open space, where the moving 
mass suddenly stood still: a cry of " Allali-lah-lah-lah \" 
was raised, and our crowd suddenly divided into two, 
leaving a canal with human banks between them. 

The Durweeshes immediately flung themselves crosswise 
on the ground in this canal, with their faces downward 
lying as closely side by side as they could pack themselves. 
Then another cry of " Allah-' ah-'ah !" was raised — two or 
three men ran along over the prostrate bodies, arranging 
them more compactly — and then, with another shout of 
" Allah !" that made the trees tremble, on came the Sheikh, 
his horse caracolling along that living path, guided by two 
men who walked on a pavement of heads and feeL As 
the horse passed over him, each Durweesh started to his 
feet ; many of them were foaming at the mouth, and 
many were in fits, but the people maintained that no 
person was ever hurt, as the horse was upheld by super 
natural agency. The four-footed brute evidently did not 
share in the superstition, for he trod as if he were walking 
on burning coals. 

I went to visit the slave-markets, one of which is held 
without the city, in the courtyard of a deserted mosque. 
I was received by a mild looking Nubian, with a large 



40 



THE SLAVE-MARKET 



white turban wreathed over his swarthy brows, and a 
bernoose, or cloak, of white and brown striped hair-cloth, 
strapped round his loins. He rose and laid down his pipe 
as I entered, and led me in silence to inspect his stock. I 
found about thirty girls scattered in groups about an inner 
court : the gate was open, but there seemed no thought of 
escape : where could they go, poor things ? — " the world 
was not their friend, or the world's law." Some were 
grinding millet between two stones ; some were kneading 
the flour into bread ; some were chatting in the sunshine, 
some sleeping in the shade. One or two looked sad and 
lonely enough, until their gloomy countenances were lighted 
up with hope — the hope of being bought ! Their faces 
were, for the most part, wofully blank ; not with the 
blankness of pleasure, but of intelligence; and many wore 
an awfully animal expression. Yet among them were 
several figures of exquisite symmetry, which, had they 
been indeed the bronze statues they resembled, would have 
attracted the admiration of thousands, and been valued 
at twenty times the price that was set upon these im- 
mortal beings. Their proprietor showed them off as a 
horse-dealer does his cattle, examining their teeth, re- 
moving their body-clothes, and exhibiting their paces : 
he asked only from twenty-five to thirty pounds sterling 
for the best and comeliest of them. The Abyssinians are 
the most prized of the African slaves, from their superior 
gentleness and intelligence ; those of the Galla country 
are the most numerous and hardy. The former have well- 
shaped heads, beautiful eyes, an agreeable brown colour, 
and shining, smooth black tresses. The latter have low 
foreheads, crisp hair, sooty complexions, thick lips, and 
projecting jaws. 



WOMAN 



41 



CHAPTER VI. 



WOMAN— THE HAREEM. 



Thus in the ever-closed hareem, 

As in the open Western home, 
Sheds womanhood her starry gleam 

Over our being's busy foam. 
Through latitudes of varying faith 

Thus trace we still her mission sure, 
To lighten life, to sweeten death, 

And all for others to endure. 



On entering a strange country, its women are the first 
objects of interest, to the moralist as well as to the epicu- 
rean; to the former, because the education of a people, 
and the framework of its society, depend mainly upon 
maternal and domestic character; to the latter, because 
almost every grace and charm of daily life is owing to her 
influence, or interwoven with her being — " On a dit, qu'il 
y a de la femrae dans tout ce qu'on aime." 

Among the lower classes of all nations, especially in the 
country, the life and habits of women approximate more 
or less to that of men in an inverse proportion to their 
civilization : as they share with the ruder sex their labours, 
hardships, and daily occupation, among savage tribes almost 
the only distinction between the sexes is physical. It is 
of the Moslem women of the middle and upper classes 
that I am now about to speak, and I do so with a diffidence 
proportioned to such mysterious matters. 

Difficult a study as woman presents in all countries, 
that difficulty deepens almost into impossibility in a land 
where even to look upon her is a matter of danger or 
of death. The seclusion of the hareem is preserved in the 
very streets by means of an impenetrable veil; the well- 
bred Egyptian averts his eyes as she passes by; she is 
ever to remain an object of mystery ; and the most inti- 
mate acquaintance never inquires after the wife of his 




R. M. Milnes. 



42 



WOMAN. 



friend, or affects to know of her existence.* 1 This very 
mystery, however, piques the often baffled inquirer; and 
between Europeans, who have become almost Egyptian, 
and Egyptians who have become almost European, one 
may obtain some information ev^en on this delicate subject. 

The Eastern woman seems as happy in her lot as her 
European sister, notwithstanding the plurality of wives 
that her lord indulges in, or ventures upon. In her 
" public opinion's law," there is no more disparagement in 
occupying the second place as a wife, than there is in 
Europe as a daughter. The manners of patriarchal ages 
remain in Egypt as unchanged as its monuments; and the 
people of Cairo think as little of objecting to a man's 
marrying a second wife, as those of Memphis of ques- 
tioning the legitimacy of Joseph. The Koran, following 
the example of the Jewish doctors, allows only four wives 
to each Mussulman, and even of this limited allowance 
they seldom avail themselves to its fullest extent. Some 
hareems contain two hundred females, including wives, 
mothers-in-law, concubines, and the various slaves belong- 
ing to each ; but these feminine barracks seem very different 
from w^hat such establishments would be in Europe; in the 
hareem there is as much order and decorum as in an Eng- 
lish quaker's home : it is guarded as the tiger guards his 
young; but its inmates consider this as a compliment, 
and fancy themselves neglected if not closely watched. 
This cause for complaint seldom occurs, for the Egyptian 
has no blind confidence in the strength of woman's cha- 
racter or woman's love. He holds to the aphorism of 
Mahomet in this matter, " If you set butter in the sun, it 
will surely melt ;" and considers it safer, if not more 
glorious, to keep her out of the reach of temptation, than 
to run the chance of her overcoming it when exposed to its 
encounter. 

Born and brought up in the hareem, women never seem 
to pine at its imprisonment: like cage-born birds, they 
sing among their bars, and discover in their aviaries a 
thousand little pleasures invisible to eyes that have a 

* If alluded to at all by other lips than those of her proprietor, 
or written to, it is as "the guarded lady," — " the concealed jewel." — 
Lane. 



WOMAN. 



42 



wider range. To them, in their calm seclusion, the strifes 
of the battling world come softened and almost hushed; 
they only hear the far-off murmur of life's stormy sea; 
and, if their human lot dooms them to their cares, they 
are as transient as those of childhood. 

Let them laugh on, in their happy ignorance of a better 
lot, while around them is gathered all that their lord can 
command of luxury and pleasantness : his wealth is hoarded 
for them alone; and the time is weary that he passes away 
from his home and his hareem. The sternest tyrants are 
gentle there : Mehemet Ali never refused a woman's prayer; 
and even Ali Pasha was partly humanized by his love for 
Emineh. In the time of the Mamelukes, criminals were 
led to execution blindfolded, because, if they met a woman 
and could touch her garment, they were saved, as by a 
sanctuary, whatever was their crime. Thus idolized, 
watched, and guarded, the Egyptian woman's life is, never- 
theless, entirely in the power of her lord, and her death 
is the inevitable penalty of his dishonour. No piquant 
case of crim. con. ever amuses the Egyptian public : the 
injured husband is his own judge and jury; his only 
" gentlemen of the long robe " are his eunuchs ; and the 
knife or the Nile the only damages. The law never 
interferes in these little domestic arrangements 

Poor Fatima! shrined as she was in the palace of a 
tyrant, the fame of her beauty stole abroad through Cairo. 
She was one amongst a hundred in the hareem of Abbas 
Pasha, a man stained with every foul and loathsome vice* 
and who can wonder, though many may condemn, if she 
listened to a daring young Albanian, who risked his life to 
obtain but a sight of her ! Whether she did listen or not, 
none can ever know; but the eunuchs saw the glitter of 
the Arnaut's arms, as he leaped from the terrace into the 
Nile and vanished in the darkness. . . . The following 
night, a merry English party dined together on board 
Lord Exmouth's boat, as it lay moored off the Isle of 
Rhoda ; conversation had sunk into silence, as the calm 
night came on ; a faint breeze floated perfumes from the 
gardens over the star-lit Nile, and scarcely moved the 
clouds that rose from the chibouque ; a dreamy languor 
seemed to pervade all nature, and even the city lay 



44 



A WO MAN- MURDERER. 



hushed in deep repose—when suddenly a boat, crowded 
with dark figures among which arms gleamed, shot out 
from one of the arches of the palace ; it paused under 
the opposite bank, where the water rushed deep and 
gloomily along, and for a moment a white figure glim- 
mered along the boat's dark crew ; there was a slight 
movement and a faint splash — and then — the river flowed 
on as merily as if poor Fatima still sang her Georgian 

song to the murmur of its waters 

I was riding one evening along the banks of the 
Mareotis; the low lands, half swamp, half desert, were 
level as the lake : there was no sound, except the ripple 
of the waves along the far extended shore, and the heavy 
flapping of the pelican's wings as she rose from the 
waters edge. Not a palm-tree raised its plumy head, 
not a shrub crept along the ground; the sun was low, but 
there was nothing to cast a shadow over the monotonous 
waste, except a few Moslem tombs with their sculptured 
turbans : these stood apart from every sign of life, and 
even of their kindred dead, like those upon the Lido at 
Venice. As I paused to contemplate this scene of deso- 
lation, an Egyptian hurried past me with a bloody knife 
in his hand ; his dress was mean and ragged, but his 
countenance was one that the father of Don Carlos might 
have worn ; he never raised his eyes as he rushed by : — 
my groom, who just then came up, told me he had slain 
his wife, and was going to her father s village to denounce 
her .... 

My boat was moored in the little harbour of Assouan, 
the old Syene, the boundary between Egypt and Ethiopia: 
opposite, lies Elephantina, the " Isle of Flowers," strewed 
with ruins, and shaded by magnificent palm-trees ; the 
last eddies of the cataract of the Nile foam round dark red 
granite cliffs, which rise precipitously from the river, and 
are piled into a mountain crowned by a ruined Saracenic 
castle. A forest of palm-trees divides the village from 
the quiet shore on whose silvery sands my tent was 
pitched. A man in an Egyptian dress saluted me in 
Italian, and in a few moments was smoking my chibouque, 
by invitation, and sipping coffee by my side: he was very 
handsome ; but his faded cheek and sunken eye showed 



WOMAN. 



45 



hardship and suffering, and lie spoke in a low and humble 
voice. In reply to my question, as to how a person of his 
appearance came into this remote region, he told me that 
he had been lately practising as a surgeon in Alexandria; 
he had married a Levantine girl, whose beauty was to him 
as "la faccia del cielo he had been absent from his 
home, and she had betrayed him. On his return, he met 
her with a smiling countenance ; in the evening, he ac- 
companied her to a deep well, whither she went to draw 
water, and, as she leant over it, he threw her in. As he 
said this, he paused, and placed his hands upon his ears, 
as if he still heard her dying shriek. He then continued: 
"I have fled from Alexandria till the affair is blown 
over: I was robbed near Siout, and have supported myself 
miserably ever since, by giving medical advice to the poor 
country people : I shall soon return, and all will be for- 
gotten. If I had not avenged myself, her own family, 
you know, must have done so." And so this woman- 
murderer smoked on, and continued talking in a low and 
gentle voice till the moon was high ; then he went his 
way, and I saw him no more. 



The Egyptian has no home — at least, in the English 
sense of that sacred word : his sons are only half brothers, 
and generally at enmity with each other; his daughters are 
transplanted while yet children into some other hareem; 
and his wives, when their beauty is gone by, are fre- 
quently divorced without a cause, to make room for some 
younger rival. The result is, that the Egyptian — a sen- 
sualist and slave — is only fit to be a subject in what pro- 
phecy foretold his country should become — "the basest of 
all kingdoms." 

The women have all the insipidity of children, without 
their innocence or sparkling freshness. Their beauty, 
voluptuous and soulless, appeals only to the senses; it has 
none of that pure and ennobling influence 

" That made us what we are — the great, the free — 
And bade earth bow to England's chivalry. " 

The Moslem purchases his wife as he does his horse: 
he laughs at the idea of honour and of love: the armed 



THE HOURIS. 



eunuch and the close-barred window are the only sale- 
guards of virtue that he relies on. Every luxury lavished 
on the Odalisque is linked with some precaution, like the 
iron fruit and flowers in the madhouse at Naples, that 
seem to smile round those whom they imprison. Nor is 
it for her own sake, but that of her master, that woman 
is supplied with every luxury that wealth can procure. 
As we gild our aviaries, and fill them with exotics native 
to our foreign birds, in order that their song may be sweet 
and their plumage bright; so the King of Babylon built 
the Hanging Gardens for the mountain girl, who pined 
and lost her beauty among the level plains of the 
Euphrates. The Egyptian is quite satisfied if his Nour- 
mahal* be in "good condition:" mindless himself, what 
has he to do with mind I 

The Egyptian woman, obliged to share her husband's 
affection with a hundred others in this world, is } r et 
further supplanted in the next by the Houris, a sort of 
she-angel, of as doubtful a character as even a Moslem 
paradise could well tolerate; nay, more, it is a very moot 
point among Mussulman D.D.s whether women have any 
soul at all, or not. I believe their chance of immortality 
rests chiefly on the tradition of a conversation of Mahomet 
with an old woman who importuned him for a good place 
in paradise. " Trouble me not, 5 ' said the vexed husband 
of Cadijahjt "there can be no old women in paradise." 
Whereupon the aged applicant made such troublous la- 
mentation, that he diplomatically added, "because the old 
will then all be made young again." I can find no allu- 
sion to woman's immortality in all the Koran, except 
incidentally, as where "all men and women are to be 
tried at the last day," and this is but poor comfort for 
those whom "angels are painted fair to look like." 

Women are not enjoined to perform the pilgrimage to 
Mecca, but they are permitted to do so. They are not 
enjoined to pray; but the Prophet seemed to think that 
it could do them no harm, provided they prayed in their 
own houses and not in the mosques, where they might 

* Light of the hareem. 

She was fifteen years older than himself, the foundress of his 
fortune, and yet more useful to Yaw as his first convert. 



WOMEN IX PUBLIC. 



interfere with, or share, the devotion of those who had 
real business there. 

In fine, women receive no religious education ; they 
seldom, if ever, pray; and their heaven, if they have one, 
is some second-hand sort of paradise, very different from 
mat of their husbands — unless, as I have observed. " by 
particular desire." 

Nothing can be more hideous than the Arab woman of 
the street; nothing more picturesque than her of the 
hareem. The former presents a mass of white, shroud- 
like drapery, waddling along on a pair of enormous yellow 
boots, with one brilliant eye gleaming above the veil 
which is drawn across the face. The lower classes wear 
only a very loose, long blue frock, and appear anxious to 
conceal nothing except their faces, in which they consider 
that identity alone consists. As these women cannot spare 
the hands to the exclusive use of their veils, they wear a 
sort of snout, or long, black, tapering veil, bound over the 
cheek-bones, and supported from the forehead by a string 
of beads. 

Take one of these, an ugly, old, sun-scorched hag, with 
a skin like a hippopotamus, and a veil-snout like an 
elephant's trunk ; her scanty robe scarcely serving the 
purposes of a girdle; her hands, feet, and forehead tat- 
tooed of a smoke colour: and there is scarcely a more 
hideous spectacle on earth. But the Lady of the Hareem, 
on the other hand. — couched gracefully on a rich Persian 
carpet strewn with soft pillowy cushions — is as rich a 
picture as admiration ever gazed on. Her eyes, if not as 
dangerous to the heart as those of our own country, where 
the sunshine of intellect gleams through a heaven of blue, 
are, nevertheless, perfect in their kind — and at least as 
dangerous to the senses. Languid, yet full — brimful of 
life; dark, yet very lustrous; liquid, yet clear as stars: 
they are compared by their poets to the shape of the 
almond, and the bright timidness of the gazelle's. The 
face is delicately oval, and its shape is set off by the gold- 
fringed turban, the most becoming headdress in the world, 
the long, black, silken tresses are braided from the fore- 
head, and hang wavily on each side of the face — Killing 
behind in a glossy cataract, that sparkles with such 



48 



THE ODALISQUE. 



golden drops as might have glittered upon Danae after 
the Olympian shower. A light tunic of pink or pale blue 
crape is covered with a long silk robe, open at the bosom, 
and buttoned thence downward to the delicately slippered 
little feet, that peep daintily from beneath the full silken 
trousers. Round the loins, rather than the waist, a each- 
mere shawl is loosely wrapped as a girdle; and an em- 
broidered jacket, or a large silk robe with loose open 
sleeves, completes the costume. Nor is the fragrant 
water-pipe, with its long variegated serpent, aud its 
jewelled mouth-piece, any detraction from the portrait. 

Picture to yourself one of Eve's brightest daughters in 
Eve's own loving land. The woman-dealer has found 
among the mountains that perfection in a living form 
which Praxiteles scarcely realized, when inspired fancy 
wrought out its ideal in marble. Silken scarfs, as richly 
coloured and as airy as the rainbow, wreathe her round, 
from the snowy brow to the finely rounded limbs, half 
buried in billowy cushions : the attitude is the very poetry 
of repose — languid it may be — but glowing life thrills 
beneath that flower-soft exterior, from the varying cheek 
and flashing eye, to the henna -dyed, taper fingers that 
capriciously play with her rosary of beads. The blaze of 
sunshine is round her kiosk, but she sits in the softened 
shadow so dear to the painter's eye. And so she dreams 
away the warm hours in such a calm of thought within, 
and sight or sound without, that she starts when the gold 
fish gleams in the fountain, or the breeze-ruffled roses 
shed a leaf upon her bosom. 

The mystery, the seclusion, and the danger that sur- 
round the Odalisque may be perilously interesting to the 
romantic; but, to matter-of-fact people like myself, an 
English fireside, a Scottish mountain, or an Irish glen, have 
more attractions in this respect than any Zenana in 
Arabia : and the women who inhabit them, with purity in 
the heart, and intellect on the brow, and a cottage-bonnet 
on the head, are better worth risking life (nay, liberty) for, 
than all the turbaned voluptuous beauty of the East. 



THE MOSLEM. 



49 



CHAPTER VII. 
THE MOSLEM. 

Where'er the sun before them shone, 

And paved the world with gold, 
They passed. Round Earth's most favoured zono 

Their chief his turban rolled. 
From Hagar's desert, Ishmael's plains, 

To Ocean's western fold, 
They reared their crescent-crowned fanes, 

And cloistered fountains cold. 

Aubrey de Vehe. 

How comes it that almost every event of vivid romance, 
and visible chivalry, and poetry of action,-* belongs to 
the olden time of man: while woman, his inspiration — 
his goddess as a pagan, his idol as a Christian — remains, 
to this day, in being and in influence the same? from the 
garden of Eden to the throne, ay, and the village-green 
of Europe, she has ever exercised despotic influence over 
the destinies of her " lord and master." At this day, 
we might meet Rebeccas at many a well, and Hagars in 
every desert of the East; Ediths, moreover, it may be, 
and Erminias in the cities thereof ; but where is the hunter 
Ishmael to be found? where the rash, generous Esau — 
outlaw of the Israelitish fold 1 where are the chivalrous 
Saracen and the bold Crusader now? Alas! the two 
former are represented by a swindling, camel jobbing 
Sheikh, who will try to cheat you on Mount Sinai ; the 
latter by the slavish Arab of the Nile, and the travelling 
dandy who employs him. 

Far pleasanter would it be to enlist the reader as the 
follower of Mahomet through the following chapter, to 
take up the standard of the Prophet, and accompany it 
in its marvellous progress over the wide East, until it waved 
upon the towers of Jerusalem, and saw its green folds 
reflected in the waters of the Nile. Pleasanter would 
it be to go back to the old times of Egypt's mysterious 

* " Sir Philip Sidney's life was poetry turned into action."— 
Campbell. 

E 



m 



THE MOSLEM. 



history, when men were Wended and confounded with the 
Gods, and the dreamlike glories of Karnak seemed almost 
to justify such presumption. However visionary the pur- 
suit, and however faint the approximation to the truth, 
it is still pleasant to he humbugged by the priests with 
Herodotus; to go " body-snatching" in kingly tombs 
with brave Belzoni; or even to pick beetles, and read 
" handwriting on the walls " with Rosellini, Champollion, 
and Sir Gardner Wilkinson — pleasanter would any of 
these subjects be than the dry discussion of common-place 
life in these common-place times. But the attempt to in- 
troduce such subjects into these slight pages would be 
as vain as to embroider tapestry with Cleopatra's Needle : 
glimpses of men and things in our own time are all that 
I can hope to offer; and if not vivid and comprehensive, 
they shall be at least faithful, as far as in me lies. 

The graceful garb, the flowing beard, and the majestic 
appearance of Orientals, are very imposing to a strangers 
eye. The rich colouring, the antique attitudes, the various 
complexions, that continually present themselves, form 
an unceasing series of " tableaux vivans " in an Eastern 
city. And when over these is poured the brilliant sunshine 
of their climate, now making strong shadow of a palm- 
tree or a pile of Saracenic architecture, now gleaming 
upon jewel-hilted scimitars or gorgeous draperies, daily 
life wears an interest and picturesqueness unknown in this 
cloud-stricken land of hats and macintoshes. 

The population of Cairo is composed of the descendants 
of ^Ethiopians, Romans, Greeks, Persians, Saracens, Arabs, 
and modern Europeans: the general maternity of the 
middle classes is Abyssinian. The variety of feature, 
form, colour, and character, resulting from such a mingling 
of races may be easily conceived. With respect to colour, 
the effect is pretty much the same as if all the tints in a 
paint-box were mixed up together, a variously modified 
brown being the result. In the women especially, the eye 
soon becomes accustomed to this complexion ; and, as the 
Eastern people never become reconciled to ours, it would 
appear that we are not of the " right colour," after all ; 
that our swarthy brethren have plausible grounds for 
asserting that Adam and Eve were copper-coloured, ot 



TURKISH EDUCATION. 



51 



something more ; and that pallor of skin first appeared 
when Cain was questioned as to the cause of his brother's 
death. One fact relating to colour struck me as singular, 
that the Turks and Arabs were uo darker in the face than 
on the arms or other parts usually protected from the sun. 
On our return from Nubia, we found ourselves, on our first 
glimpse in a looking-glass after two months' absence, 
daguerreotyped into a very magpie complexion — face, 
neck, and hands, were Arab-dark : while forehead and 
arms looked white as a woman's from the contrast. 

The Turk seems to suffer little change from the climate, 
notwithstanding the light-brown colour of his hair and 
moustaches ; and his olive-coloured complexion never 
assumes that yellowish tinge that seems peculiar to the 
people of Lower Egypt. As you ascend the river, the 
colour of the natives deepens so gradually, that you might 
almost calculate the latitude by their shade. Strange to 
say, however, after you have arrived at, and passed 
through, a nation as black as midnight, with coarse, crisp 
hair, you emerge, farther on, amongst a people of light 
olive colour, with smooth, shining tresses; these characte- 
ristics show the Abyssinian, who appears to be the purest 
and most distinct race in Africa. As the Egyptian gene- 
rally has his family by Abyssinian wives or slaves, instead 
of, or in addition to, his Arab wives, he degenerates, in 
every generation, from the pure Arab race. The Bedouin 
requires a chapter to himself; the Osmanli, or Turk, will 
be introduced under the head of Constantinople ; the Copt 
will appear in better company than he deserves, in speak- 
ing of the missionary schools; and our present concern is 
only with the Moslem-Egyptian-Arab of the cities and the 
villages along the Nile. 

The childhood of this luckless specimen of man is passed 
in his mother's hareem in languor and effeminacy; he is 
not weaned for eighteen months, and his infancy is pro- 
portionately prolonged. At school, his education is limited 
chiefly to reading and writing, with sometimes a little 
arithmetic. Those who go to the University (in the 
mosque of el Azhar) acquire little more instruction of any 
practical utility. If an Egyptian can read, write, and 
repeat the greater part of the Koran, he is considered 

E 2 



52 



THE PEASANTRY. 



learned; if to this he adds some knowledge of Arab 
poetry, he is a very accomplished and u promising young 
man." 

The chief studies in the University are Mahomet's reli- 
gion, and Heaven knows whose jurisprudence : medicine, 
chemistry, astronomy, and other sciences which are derived 
from the East, are very little cultivated. This, however, 
is to be understood only of the Egyptian when left to 
himself: Mehemet Ali has recently established numerous 
schools for boys : of these I shall speak when discussing 
the character of the Pasha. 

An Egyptian infant is the most ill favoured object 
in human creation ; a name is applied to him with as 
little ceremony as a nickname is with us ; and, indeed, 
there are not perhaps twenty different names distributed 
among the 200,000 Moslem inhabitants of Cairo; they 
are almost all taken from the Prophet or his immediate 
relations and followers. In our crew of ten men, we have 
five Mahmouds, or Mohammeds, two Ibraheems, three 
Abdallahs, and a Jad. As the Egyptian grows into child- 
hood, he appears still more deformed, and extremely cor- 
pulent ; but in manhood he becomes well-proportioned, 
stalwart, and sinewy; those at least who are employed 
upon the river. The city Egyptian never takes any 
active exercise, and passes nearly all his time squatted 
on his divan or counter. Many of the shopkeepers at 
Cairo are merely amateur tradesmen, being possessed of 
private property, and carrying on business, as good young 
ladies do in our bazaars, principally for amusement. 

Along the river, and among the villages, the poor man 
is occupied with agriculture, boat-building, or the most 
laborious occupation of pumping up water to irrigate the 
fields. His children of both sexes run about naked, or 
nearly so; and if the little girls have a rag upon them, 
they coquettishly cover their faces with it. The peasant's 
utmost exertions scarcely suffice to earn two-pence a day; 
and even this pittance is often wrung from him for the 
Pasha, when some neighbour has failed in the taxes, for 
which the community is answerable. Yet happy does he 
consider himself if allowed even thus to struggle on through 
life. The bright sun shines, and the cool river flows for 



ATTACHMENT TO COUNTRY. 



53 



him. however deep his poverty; and the faint shadow of 
freedom that he then enjoys gives energy to his labour. 
But the Pasha must have workmen for his factories, and 
labourers for his crops. Conscription, for these purposes, 
then seizes those whom that for war had spared ; and the 
fellah is torn from his home, to work under the lash of a 
taskmaster, for the nominal wages of two-pence halfpenny 
a day. This is sometimes two years in arrear, and even 
then paid half in kind, at the Pasha's valuation of what- 
ever he has least occasion for. 

Such is the Egyptian peasant's lot, aggravated by priva- 
tions that are incredible. If sick, he has no medicine 
or medical advice, and he dies ; if starving, he must steal 
from his own crop, which the Pasha has set his seal upon, 
and he suffers the bastinado. If a conscript for war, he 
is kept in camp until no longer fit for service : then thrown 
upon the world to beg and die. 

This is a dreary picture, but it is too true; and yet, 
under all these miseries, even here the " human heart vin- 
dicates its strong right to be glad:" amongst the most 
wretched hovels, under the most abject appearance of 
misery, I thought I could observe about the same pro- 
portion of merriment and amusement, sorrow and indiffe- 
rence, as in joyous Italy, or in our own favoured islands. 
No people, when exiled, suffer more from the mat du 
pays than the Egyptian, though his attachment to the 
soil be simply feline: all the factitious luxuries of Europe 
cannot compensate to him for his own voluptuous climate, 
his loved river with its indolent flow, the whispers of the 
palm-forest, bending with his favourite fruit. The Pasha 
and the Sheikh may rob him to the uttermost; his sense of 
Destiny and unconsciousness of wrong will make him 
submit to tyranny and oppression without repining; — leave 
him but his liberty, such as it is and his sunny home, and 
he asks no more on this side of Paradise. 

In no other people, perhaps, is their history so clearly 
legible as in the Egyptian character : his loyalty is slavish- 
ness; his courage is ferocity; his religion, superstition ; his 
love, sensual; his abstinence, pharisaical; his resignation, 
a dastard fatalism. Yet, let us rather — remembering his 



54 



DRESS OF THE EGYPTIANS. 



disadvantages — wonder that any virtues should survive 
their effects, than that vices should abound. 

When young,, the Egyptian is remarkably precocious 
in intellect, and learns with facility. As he grows up, 
his intelligence seems to be dulled or diminished ; he has 
no genius for discovery, and, though apt in acquiring rudi- 
ments, he is incapable of generalising. He fills subordinate 
departments well, but appears incapable of taking or of 
keeping a lead. 

The dress of the middle classes consists of a red cloth 
skull-cap, over which is wound a turban of green, or 
black, or white muslin, according to the station or the 
creed of the wearer. The first is only worn by descend- 
ants of the Prophet; the second by the Copts, or Egyptian 
Christians; the third is open to any who chooses to adopt 
it. A chemise of cotton is covered by a silk waistcoat, 
and very loose cotton drawers; over this is worn a loose 
robe of striped silk, with wide sleeves, confined round 
the body by a rich silken scarf, and over all is generally 
worn another loose robe of cloth, or darker coloured silk. 
A pair of yellow slippers is worn within another pair of a 
red colour, which they put off on entering a mosque or 
private dwelling. 

The Mahommedan faith is strictly Unitarian : the 
Prophet is only prayed to as an intercessor. The religious 
Moslem performs his devotions five times a day, and some- 
times twice in the night besides; he is strictly observant 
of numerous and trying fasts; he distributes alms in large 
proportion to his means; every act of his life is prefaced 
by a prayer, and yet he trusts to God's mercy alone for 
his hopes of heaven. He is ever conscious of the invisible 
and future world, and takes pride in acts of devotion that 
seem to him a vindication of his claims to a connection 
with that world. For this reason be despises the Pro- 
testant, whom he calls the "prayerless;" as he looks down 
on the Roman Catholic and the Greek as idolaters, on 
account of their processions, and their worship of saints and 
images. 

Unfortunately, this familiarity with the name of the 
Deity leads to its introduction on the most irrelevant and 



THE MOSLEM. 



5j 



irreverent subjects; and he often prefaces with "Please 
God/' or " God prosper me/' an observation that the 
"prayerless " Protestant would blush to listen to. 

The resignation of the Islamite is the most respectable 
part of his religion ; the most sudden and bitter misfor- 
tune is received as sent from God, and to be borne with 
humble patience. Death itself, cowardly as he seems in 
other respects, is encountered and undergone by the Mos- 
lem with dignity and fortitude : in setting out to travel, 
he is more anxious to provide himself with a shroud, than 
any other " change " of linen : if he is ill by the wayside, 
the caravan, which waits for none, moves on, and his death 
is inevitable; the sufferer then performs "the ablution" 
with sand, clothes himself with his shroud, and exercises 
his remaining strength in scraping a grave, with a heap of 
sand on the windy side. Then, trusting to the desert blast 
to cover him, he quietly lies down to die, with a parting 
prayer that his lonely grave may not be forgotten by the 
Resurrection Angel at the last day.* 

The Moslem of the cities, also, when his last hour is 
come, turns himself in the direction of Mecca, and dies with 
as much resignation as if he did it on purpose ; then his 
family raise cries of lamentation, such as " Oh, my camel !" 
"Oh, my lion!" "Oh, my only one!'' These ejaculations 
become more striking as they proceed : " Oh, my buffalo 1" 
does not sound pathetic, though it means simply that the 
dead was their support; and "Oh, my jackass!" sounds 
ambiguous, until the addition of " bearer of my burdens" 
turns it into eloquence. t The waiiing-women and the 
grave-men now arrive, and, laid upon a bier, he is carried, 
all coffinless, to his last resting-place, and laid literally on 
the shelf, in the vault of his family. 

In Paradise he finds the extreme of sensual enjoyment, 
as a reward for the mortification of the senses in this life; 
so that his self-denial on earth is only an enlargement of 
the heroic abstinence of an alderman from luncheon on the 

* The angel Gabriel is the minister of divine vengeance. Azrael 
receives the parting soul. Israfei sounds the judgment trumpet, and 
opens the grave. 

+ I have taken the greater part of these observations from Mf 
Lane's invaluable work — the highest authority. 



56 



LIFE IN EGYPT. 



day of a city feast. His heavenly hareera consists of 300 
houris, all perfect in loveliness. What chance has his 
poor wife of being required under such circumstances ! — it 
is supposed she has a heaven of her own, in some place or 
other, but as to her substitute for Houris the Koran is 
discreetly silent. In Paradise is to be found every luxury 
of every appetite, with every concomitant, except satiety 
and indigestion. 

I have dwelt thus long on the incidents and character 
of Egyptian life, as it concerns us not a little politically as 
well as otherwise. The relations of his country are 
becoming daily more involved with those of England, and 
it concerns us not a little how he lives, bow he acts and 
feels towards his present government. See him reduced 
from man's proud estate — divested of all interest in the 
land which is but farmed by a foreign adventurer — ex- 
cluded from all share in politics — without a ray of free- 
dom to light him onward through thought to action. 
Within the precincts of his hareem alone he feels himself 
a man, and there all his thoughts and ambition dwell 
imprisoned : not daring to mount a horse, lest it should 
draw upon him the attention of the taxgatherer or his 
spies, the descendant of the desert chieftains betakes him- 
self to a donkey, and goes forth to his counter, his only 
business; or squats in a gloomy coffee-house, his only place 
of public resort. There he sits and smokes with down- 
cast eyes, unless the voice of the story-teller strikes upon 
some chord of fancy not yet quite numbed ; and, in the 
adventures of his forefathers, he is roused to feel an 
interest that nothing in his own dull life can waken. Can 
this man's fate be worse — can any change bring additional 
suffering or humiliation upon this fallen race? 

The Turks, or Osmanlis, are of small number, but high 
consideration in Egypt. They are to the Arabs what the 
Normans were to the Irish five hundred years ago — a 
proud, privileged class, without a sympathy for their 
vassals, except such as their religion may impose. They 
are, for the most, ignorant of Arabic, considering it dero- 
gatory to learn the language of a con juered race. Endowed 
with an instinct and power of c nnmand, in which the 
Egyptian is utterly deficient, th \y occupy all posts of 



DEGENERACY OF RACE. 



57 



trust throughout the Pasha's provinces. They are also 
less avaricious than the Egyptians who are placed in 
authority ; and, though equally lax in their ideas of justice/ 
they seldom exercise the same grinding oppression that 
the Arab inflicts upon his fellowcountrymen when in 
his power. 

The Turk is vain, ignorant, presumptuous, and authori- 
tative (I speak of the governors and officers, who are the 
only Osmanlis of Egypt of whom I have had any expe- 
rience) ; yet in society he is courteous, affable, and gen- 
tlemanlike. He never, or very rarely, intermarries with 
Egyptians \ and, as it is a well-known fact that children 
born of other women in this country rapidly degenerate 
or die, there are few instances of indigenous Turks in 
Egypt.* Through the long reign of the Mamelukes, there 
was not one instance, I believe, of a son succeeding to his 
father's power and possessions. The Mamelukes were 
young Georgian or Circassian slaves, adopted by their 
owners, and adopting others in their turn ; this Dynasty 
of Foundlings ruled for many years in the land of the 
Pharaohs, and is now extinct ; some few survived the 
massacre under Mehemet Ali, but they have gradually 
died away. When I arrived, the last of them was to be 
seen at Alexandria, with snow-white beard and bended 
form, but an eye that, in extreme old age, retained all its 
youthful fire. This last of a persecuting and persecuted 
race is now at rest, with a turban carved in stone above 
his tomb. 

* Mehemet Ali's large family would appear to be a remarkable 
exception. Ibrahim, however, is of European birth, and the othera 
form slight exceptions to the rule of degeneracy. 



58 



MAHOMED 



CHAPTER VIIL 

MAHOMET, AND HIS CREED. 

While God was uttering through his lip, and writing with his pen, 

Mahommed took his lot with us,, a man with other men : 

And thus, in oar due love to him, and awe for God alone, 

We bless his memory as the chest that holds the precious stone. 

MlLNES. 

Imposteur a la Mecque, mais Prophete a Medine. 

Voltaire. 

El Islam signifies " resignation/' and is the Moslem ex- 
pression for the Mahometan faith; the exposition of its 
principles could not have found one more appropriate. I 
am not about to enter upon any dry, theological discus- 
sions, but the whole character of Eastern life is so strongly 
impregnated by Islamism, that a glance at this faith and 
its extraordinary founder seems unavoidable. 

The star-worship of old times was surely the most na- 
tural belief to which the wandering soul could cling. It 
first revealed itself in those unclouded climes where the 
host of Heaven is ever visible. The planets especially 
appeared to preside over Earth's fluctuating fates, and to 
each was allotted some peculiar ministry by this lofty 
superstition. The priests were also astrologers, and when 
their influence had passed away, the book in which they 
read — its page the sky, its letters, stars — remained still 
open, and still devoutly gazed on. To this moment, an 
instinct of this faith lingers among the people of the 
desert, who attribute the rising of the Nile to one, the 
falling of the miraculous drop that cures the plague and 
blesses the year to another, star — their human destiny to 
the combination of the host of Heaven: and who can tell 
how often and how deeply the lonely wanderer has been 
cheered by the belief that these eyes of heaven were 
watching over his desert path ! 

Upon this star-worship was grafted a wild, vague my- 
thology, that expressed itself in idols : this must have 
been a very complicated theology, for we find Mahomet, 



AND HIS CREED. 



50 



in one iconoclasm, destroying three hundred and sixty of 
its stony saints that had occupied the temple of the Caaba 
in peace till then.* This temple was in existence before 
the Christian era, and contained the black stone that fell 
from heaven, on which Jacob dreamed ! 

Scattered among the Sabeans were many Christians 
and Jews; the latter principally emigrants from Syria 
when under the scourge of Titus, the avenger; the former, 
the converts of the Jacobite and Nestorian bishops. The 
professors of these two creeds bore the name of " People 
of the Book," or of the Bible ; and, if the Christians were 
tolerated, the Jews were even cherished by the Arabs, 
who rejoiced to find in the story of the Hebrew patriarchs 
the ancient origin of the fathers of their nation. They 
respected Abraham as a just man, and one who dwelt in 
tents ; but they adored Ishmael, whose mode of life they 
found had been their own. 

Then came Mahomet. He was of the tribe of Koreish, 
and the family of Hashem, the most illustrious in Arabia 
— princes of Mecca, and hereditary guardians of the 
Caaba. It is curious that the controversial Christians — 
themselves the followers of poor fishermen, who were yet 
ambassadors of God — endeavoured to injure his cause by 
stating that he was of humble origin. Noble he was, and 
therefore less wonderful his rise; and his father Abdallah 
is said to have been so popular, that two hundred and 
three virgins expired of despair on the day of his nuptials 
with Amina, a daughter of the noble race of the Zahrites. 
Mahomet, the only issue of this marriage, at an early age 
found himself an orphan, and a ward of his avaricious 
uncles. The result of Arabian chancery would argue 
them to be a civilized people even then, for, on coming 
of age, lie received five camels and a slave as his sole 
remnant of a noble inheritance. " In the lowly valley 
grow the mighty trees," says the Arab proverb, and in 
poverty grew strong that soul which was to influence 
the world. He first tried his hand and head at trade, 
wherein he prospered, and then he married Cadijah, the 
wealthiest widow in Mecca. 

He had now time to look round on mankind, and to 

* Some say there were only two idols here, Abraham and Nimrod. 



(51) 



MAHOMET. 



study his fellow-countrymen. He found their prejudices 
and affections divided between the idolatrous faith of their 
forefathers, the doctrine of the Jews, so gratifying to their 
worldly pride, and the more spiritual creed of even the 
Arabian Christian, which invited to self-denial in the 
present, by the promise of a glorious future. 

Mahomet took the iron, and brass, and gold of these 
respective systems, and fused them into a bronze image of 
himself. He asserted, and the Eastern world at length 
believed, that he alone could reconcile the discrepancies, 
fulfil all the requisitions, and unite the strength of the 
world's divided faith. The Arab wanted but a leader, 
Mahomet wanted but to lead ; and his was the energetic, 
self-loyal, indomitable spirit that could do it effectually. 
For seven years he struggled through contempt, and 
jealousy, and danger, as resolutely as the swimmer, who 
knows that he must reach the shore — or die. His claim 
to divinity and his warlike spirit acted and reacted on 
each other : did his followers faint under the burning 
sunshine of the desert, " Hell is much hotter," was at 
once his sermon and his bulletin ; did the threats and 
the power of the unbelieving Koreishites induce even his 
devoted followers to remonstrate. " If they should place 
the sun on my right hand, and the moon upon my left, 
they should not divert me from my course," was the vaunt 
of one who felt himself superior to fate, or the maker of 
his own. 

When his assassination was determined on at Mecca, 
and each of the tribes devoted a sword to share his blood, 
he retired to the desert with only one companion ; yet 
was he then not less the Leader than when, in another 
emergency, he unrolled his turban as the banner for 
10,000 men: — "We are but two," said Abubeker, the 
companion of his flight, as their pursuers were approach- 
ing ; " We are three," said Mahomet, " for God is with 
us;" just then a pigeon nestled at the door of the cave in 
which they were concealed, and the pursuers passed on 
unsuspectingly. 

It was not enough for Mahomet that he escaped on this 
occasion — he had the bold assurance to date the triumph 
of his mission from that day ; and all over the East, 



MECCA AND MEDINA. 



61 



"The Hegira," or The Flight, is the glorious epoch by 
which the Believer reckons time. 

Medina received the Prophet as such, and is consecrated 
by his burial, as Mecca by his birth. Thenceforth he and 
his creed triumphed together; the head that would not 
be converted fell upon the field of battle, and the curved 
sabre was the true effigy of the Crescent. 

In the history of the world, there is no character that 
can bear comparison with that of Mahomet, for the daring 
aud originality of his views (however they might have 
altered or expanded with success); or with the sustained 
and almost superhuman energy with which he carried out 
those views, in defiance, as it would seem, of God and 
man. 

In two instances, especially, he displayed a reliance 
on himself or his destiny inconceivable to ordinary minds. 
It was not only in times of security that he preached his 
divine mission, and promised Paradise; but in the hour 
of battle, when all seemed lost, when death appeared 
inevitable, and the soldier's courage was of no more avail; 
then started forth the power and resources of the daring 
soul, and the impostor authoritatively called on God to 
send angels to assist him ; and — strange to say, those 
angels came — they came in the shape of Hope to his 
friends, and Panic to his foes. The Prophet's life was 
saved, and his faith became immortal. Again, in the 
more trying hour of illness and decay, when the glow 
of battle and of bravery was over — the light of the past 
quenched in the darkening future — dissolution close at 
hand, and kindred and believers assembled round his 
carpet to see their Prophet die — he held out unfaltering 
for his divine mission; his last act was to dictate the 
substance of a recent revelation from his friend the angel 
Gabriel ; his last word, " God ! I come to thee 1" 

In the cavern near Mecca, where the pigeon had sheltered 
him from the Koreishites, he compiled that Koran, which 
displayed such wonderful knowledge of human nature, 
at least, of Eastern human nature. These revelations 
were written by his disciples on shoulderblades of mutton 
and on palm-leaves, and the chapters, both animal and 
vegetable, were placed indiscriminately in a chest, be- 



62 



THE KORAN. 



longing to one of his wives. It "was not until two years 
after the death of the Prophet that these writings were 
transcribed and collected into a volume by Abubeker, the 
successor of the inspired editor. 

It is the fashion of the illuminated minds of the pre- 
sent day to find out wonders of eloquence, and novelty, 
and meaning, in what that dull race of men. our fore- 
fathers, found trite, bombastic, and obscure. The Koran 
is now eulogized by Europeans in terms that might make 
a Moslem jealous; yet I am free to confess that, having 
laboured through " its incoherent rhapsodies," 3 from the 
chapter of the "Cow'' to that of "Men/ 3 I can only marvel 
at the power of credulous fanaticism that could ever have 
distilled a faith, or even meaning, out of its fantastic 
pages. Nevertheless, Mahometanism claims the first and 
highest place amongst uninspired religions. It proclaimed 
the Unity of God, and inculcated entire resignation to 
His will. In its passive quality, it was eminently the 
religion of endurance; in its active quality, it was, beyond 
all other, the religion of conquest. Intended as a men- 
struum in which all other faiths were to be fused, it 
endeavoured to conciliate the Jew by adopting the patri- 
archs ; the Sabean, by admitting geni and starry intelli- 
gences : the corrupt Christianity, which it encountered, 
by asserting the divine mission of Christ — the existence 
of Purgatory — and of a Paraclete, which was Mahomet 
himself. 

Mahometanism was the child of the sword, the soldier 
was the priest; its existence depended on its advancement : 
when it stood still, it languished. Strictly Eastern in the 
rites and the habit of thought that it prescribed, it never 
was adapted to advance amongst a northern people. 
Had Mahomet succeeded in conciliating the Jews, it miglit 
have materially altered the character of the East, by 
consolidating their strenuous character with that of the 
volatile Arab, and rendering uniform the Eastern faith. 
It is evident that his keen vision perceived this im- 
portance in the conversion of the Jews; and perhaps he 
was led towards their creed by his zeal for the unity of the 
Deity and his abhorrence of idolatry. But the descendant 
* Gibbon. 



PROGRESS OF ISLAMISM. 



Go 



of Ishmael (of whose pure blood the Koreish pride them- 
selves in being) was never to coalesce with the children 
of the Promise : u thy hand against theirs," was not spoken 
in vain three thousand years before: and was fulfilled 
when the children of Abraham scornfully resisted, even 
to the death, amalgamation with the Ishmaelite. Had they 
done otherwise, in all human probability would Jerusalem 
have been restored, and the Hebrews become once more a 
nation: but a mightier hand pointed to a different issue; 
the same obstinacy that had rejected the Son of Heaven 
incurred the hatred of his foe ; and the Jew is devoted 
by Mahomet to destruction in this world and damnation 
in the next. 

But even the conversion of the Jews to Islamism would 
not have altered the relations of the Moslem with 
Christendom, or made any difference in the result of the 
battle of Tours. Spiritual warfare found no arena in the 
minds of the combatants : the fanaticism of the Koran 
never came into mental collision with the fierce faith that 
chivalry had evolved from the Gospel of Peace ; and it 
would perhaps savour of bigotry to ascribe to Christianity, 
such as was then practised, the check that the Saracens 
experienced in Europe : but the firm, vehement will and 
iron vigour of the Norman must ever ultimately prevail 
over the wild enthusiasm and unconnected activity of the 
Oriental. However strong in numbers, and powerful in 
resources, every expedition of the Saracea was a mere ex- 
pansion of the foray of an Arab tribe : the Moor was, as 
he described himself, a thunderbolt of war, but the cloud 
that bore it must move on, or be dissolved. When the 
Moslem reached France on the south, and Hungary on the 
east, he encountered that stern northern race to whom 
the conquest of the world seems allotted. Baffled and 
thrown back on Barbary and the Bosphorus, the tide of 
Islam, that must ever either flow or ebb, had turned. 
From that hour it began to shrink, and is now rapidly sub- 
siding into the narrow channel whence it overflowed. 

Would that we could find a pure and uniform faith 
following upon its retiring tide, as the harvest pursues the 
receding Nile ! But as yet there appears little probability 
of such a result; nevertheless, come what may, the opened 



04 



THE AFRICAN CHURCH. 



eyes and expanded hearts of men will never more submit 
to the Moslems' creed, in whose path have followed, like 
its shadow, oppression, insecurity, poverty, and intole- 
rance. 

It is not, however, by conversion, that Islamism is on 
the decline : — " Moslem once, Moslem ever," is a proverb 
among the Greeks. His very being is identifier! with his 
faith ; it is interwoven with every action of his life; it is 
the source of all his pride, hope, and comfort. Among us, 
too generally, our religion " is of our life a thing apart :" 
with the Moslem it seems to be ever actualized. 

Inquire of the historian, the traveller, or even of the 
missionary, what number of conversions have taken place 
among Mahometans — that the people on whose soul, from 
their very infancy, the faith of the Prophet and the scorn 
of Christianity seemed stamped indelibly, and they will 
answer — none : it is only with a failing population that 
this war-faith ever fails — ubi solitudinem pacem. Then 
comes the Greek, or the Roman Catholic, or the Jew, who 
multiply apace ; and the same belief in destiny that once 
carried the Moslem over the world irresistibly now bids 
him submit passively to emigration or extinction. 

The Egyptian Moslem presents ail the evil results of 
his religion in a striking manner, with little admixture of 
its better qualities, except the resignation, hospitality and 
courteousness that it enjoins ; to which must be added 
resnect to grey hairs and filial reverence. 

The number of Moslems in Egypt is about 1,750,000 
(including Turks and Nubians). The Copts (to whom we 
now turn are next in consideration. 

The African church claims descent from St. Mark, as 
that of Rome from St. Peter. In such state as Eutyches 
and Jacobus left her, she has maintained her integrity un- 
impaired through all the political vicissitudes that Egypt 
has undergone. 

The Copts claim, and are generally admitted, to be 
descendants of the ancient Kgyptians, and this claim seems 
substantiated by the strong likeness that the portraits on 
the ancient tombs bear to the Jacobite Egyptian of the 
present day. Nubia belonged to this profession until 
about the twelfth century, since when it has been Maho- 



THE COPTS. 



6.5 



metal ; and Abyssinia is therefore now isolated in it 
Christianity. 

The church of Alexandria was not a little proud of 
giving a Patriarch, or rather a Metropolitan, to that 
remote region, and drew such glowing pictures of its illus- 
trious suffragans, that Portugal sent a Jesuit mission to 
convert these prosperous and powerful heretics. After 
much controversy and bloodshed, however, Abyssinia 
shook off the Jesuits and their creed, and returned to the 
Coptic or Jacobite profession, to which they still adhere. 
There are about 150,000 persons of this faith in Egypt, 
so they would seem to have increased since the time in 
which Gibbon wrote of them; although it is said that 
considerable numbers annually become apostate to the 
Moslem creed, for the sake of marriage, or money, or both. 
These Copts differ little from the rest of the population in 
the fashion of their dress, except that they affect dark 
colours in their turbans and their robes. This gloomy 
garb suits their saturuine and melancholy countenances, in 
which the history of their persecuted race is legibly en- 
graved. 

The head of their church is called the patriarch of Alex- 
andria. He is selected from amongst the monks of St. 
Anthony, who inhabit a convent in the Arabian desert, 
not far from the Red Sea. The convents are very nume- 
rous, and, except for the greater length and severity of 
their fasts, they differ little in their rules from those of the 
Roman Catholics. The priests are allowed to marry, 
however, though their brides must be virgins; and, if 
these should die, no second marriage is allowed to the 
widower. They reject the use of images in their churches, 
but are very proud of their pictures. These services are 
read in the obsolete Coptic language, which is seldom 
understood by the priests, and never by the people. The 
Sacrament is administered in both elements, and confession 
is encouraged, but not insisted on. Balanced thus nearly 
between the Latin and the Greek churches, they have also 
many observances that partake of the Mecca ritual. They 
retain their turbans, but take off their slippers, on entering 
the house of prayer; they abstain from swine's flesh, and 
animals that have not been killed by the knife. The 

F 



06 



THE MISSIONARIES. 



women pray in a different part of the church from the 
men. 

Their ancient language has been supposed to be that 
which the gipsies now use; but Mr. Lieder, who has 
carefully studied both, informs me that Sanscrit is the 
only tongue to which the latter bears any analogy, and 
that the Coptic has no living relations. 

The Copts have a very indifferent character, even in 
Egypt, where they are considered deceitful, sensual, and 
avaricious : nevertheless, they have been in all times ex- 
tensively employed as scribes and accountants by the more 
ignorant Egyptian and Osmanli; and at present they fill 
most of the revenue departments in the Pasha's offices. 
They are very industrious, and exercise various trades 
according to their localities; in Cairo, they are generally 
jewellers and tailors; in the Fayoum, they make rose- 
water and other perfumes ; at Siout, they occupy them- 
selves in the manufacture of linen, and a certain inhuman 
process, which is said to be a monopoly of the priests.* 

Such is the material upon which our Missionaries have 
to labour, for among the Moslems their efforts are admitted 
to be all but hopeless. Mr. Lieder and Mr. Krusef have 
made persevering and exemplary efforts in their calling, 
and, as they have brought greater energies and abilities to 
the task than many other Missionaries, their labours have 
been proportionally more successful. The Coptic patriarch 
is on the best terms with Mr. Lieder, calls him his 
"father," allows and encourages the Coptic children to 
attend the Missionary schools, and sanctions the circula- 
tion of the Scriptures and Church of England tracts 
amongst his flock. 

Mehemet Ali also encourages the Missionary schools, 
and has upwards of 200 of its scholars in his employment. 
There were about ninety boys at the school when I visited 
it; an ugly ophthalmic set they were, drest in blue shirts 
and red caps. But a far deeper interest than mere eye- 

* Clot Bey, torn. i. p. 336. 

+ Mr. Kruse is now gone to reside in Upper Egypt, at Siout. 
There is a considerable Coptic population there, but a scene of sterner 
trial, in every point of view, can scarcely be imagined than this brave 
man has ventured upon. 



MAGIC IN EGYPT. 



61 



eight could receive was excited by the contemplation ol 
these poor children, bending with Arab eagerness over the 
books whence they were allowed to imbibe truth, for the 
first and, perhaps, for the last time, in their lives. 

They acquire the first rudiments of knowledge, as also 
the Creed and the Lord's Prayer, by chanting in chorus, as 
in our infant schools. 

At twelve o'clock, a bell rang, and all the little swarthy 
creatures, rushing out into the courtyard, ranged them- 
selves on benches to receive their dinner from the charity 
of the Church Missionary Society. I wish the London 
sight-seers could look upon this little congregation, edu- 
cated, nourished, and reclaimed from misery and ignorance, 
by the active charity of those who, 3000 miles away, in 
their own happy and favoured land, acknowledge the 
claims of these poor brethren upon their sympathy and 
their assistance. *< 

These schools of Cairo afford altogether a very cheerful 
aspect to an English eye; and it is a gratifying duty to 
bear this impartial testimony to their utility and good 
conduct. Attached to the schools is a neat chapel, wherein 
the service of our church is performed. The congregation 
was very small, compared with the number of English at 
Cairo. The latter seem to succumb, for the most part, to 
the fatal influence of this voluptuous climate; and, with 
some admirable exceptions, do little credit to the proud 
character of their country. 

I must not dismiss these sketches of Egyptian creeds 
without a word upon the subject of Magic, of which Egypt 
has been, in all ages, the reputed stronghold. 

The powers with which the early race of man was origi- 
nally endowed are said never to have been wholly lost; 
they lingered for centuries under the tent of the Chal- 

* I would beg to direct the attention of those who are interested in 
the welfare of these missions, to that excellent institution, the Medical 
Relief Mission, as established at Beyrout. There it has been pro- 
ductive of infinite good, and Cairo would appear to be a station 
especially adapted for its establishment, from the wide extent of 
physical suffering, the want of medical advice, and the excellent results 
of making a prejudiced people grateful, and inclined to look up to 
those who have the means of distributing more than mere physical 
solace. 

F 2 



03 



MAGICIANS. 



dean, and the caverns of Africa. The grandsons of Adam 
were skilled in sciences which the world has now only 
begun to regain a knowledge of;* and in the days when 
angels mingled their blood with that of earth, intellectual 
power gained a height to which it can never rise again. 
In the busy and distracting life consequent on the uni- 
versal emigration from Babel, much of this knowledge was 
undoubtedly lost, as, being oral, it was the first to suffer 
from the confusion of tongues : but Astronomy still kept 
her watch on the starlit plains of Chaldea; Architecture 
wrought her wonders at Carli, Ipsamboul, and stupendous 
Thebes; and Magic still cherished his dark mysteries in 
the caverns of Dakke, Ekhmin, and Domdaniel. 

The Egyptian priests are said to have long retained 
somewhat of the ancient superhuman knowledge; which, 
being purely traditional, was at any time liable to con- 
tract or expire under the jealous guardianship of some 
high priest, who wished to be the last of his power. In 
the mysteries of Isis, some of the great secrets were darkly 
shadowed forth; and enough remains on the hierophantic 
walls of her ancient temples, to prove how much we are 
plagiarists in what was vainly deemed quite new. 

Moses was well skilled in magic, as in all other "learn- 
ing of the Egyptians;" and when, by miracles, he came to 
prove his mission, Pharoah sent to Dakke and Ekhmin for 
magicians to oppose him. Their power would seem to 
have been real, though — like that of Elymas in later times 
— serving only as a foil to the mightier works of the divine 
missionary. When the Israelites came out of Egypt, they 
were so imbued with magical practices that we find them 
forbidden upon pain of death : yet, four hundred years 
after, Saul found a witch at Endor, and books have been 
written upon Solomon's necromancies. The study of 
magic is still followed in Egypt, as it has always been; 
Caviglia told Lord Lindsay that he had pursued it to the 
bounds of what was lawful for man to know; and M. 
Preiss, an eminent antiquary, is said to be now deeply 
engaged in the same pursuit. 

There are many professors of magic among the natives 
of Cairo, and these are not to be confounded with jugglers. 
* See Gen. iv. 22 ; vi. 4. 



THE INCANTATION. 



CO 



of whom there are also considerable numbers. The most 
remarkable of the magicians is the Sheikh Abdel-Kader 
Maugrabee, who has been introduced to English notice by 
Lord Prudhoe, Mr. Salt, Mr. Lane, Lord Lindsay, and 
several other writers. None of these travellers were men 
likely to lend themselves to a deception, yet they were 
all more or less convinced of the reality of this magician's 
pretensions. On my arrival in Cairo, I found some diffi- 
culty in inducing him to come to my hotel, as he had 
been recently kicked down stairs by a party of young 
Englishmen, for a failure in his performances. At length, 
through the kindness of our consul, I procured a visit 
from him one evening. He was rather a majestic-looking 
old man, though he required the imposing effect of his 
long grey beard and wide turban to counteract the dis- 
agreeable expression of his little twinkling eyes. I had 
a pipe and coffee served to him, and he discoursed with- 
out reserve upon the subject of his art, in which he offered 
to instruct me. After some time, a boy about twelve 
years old was brought in, and the performance began. 
He took the child's right hand in his, and described a 
square figure on its palm, on which he wrote some Arabic 
characters; while this was drying, he wrote upon a piece 
of paper an invocation to his familiar spirits, which he 
burnt with some frankincense in a brazier at his feet. 
For a moment, a cloud of fragrant smoke enveloped the 
wizard and the cowering child who sate before him, but 
it had entirely dissipated before the phantasms made their 
appearance. Then, taking the boy's hand in his, he 
poured some ink. into the hollow of it, and began to 
mutter rapidly; his countenance assumed an appearance 
of intense anxiety, and the perspiration stood upon his 
brow : occasionally, he ceased his incantations, to inquire 
if the boy saw anything; and, being answered in the 
negative, he went on more vehemently than before. 
Meanwhile, the little Arab gazed on the inky globule in 
his hand with an eager and fascinated look, and at length 
exclaimed, " I see them now !" Being asked what he saw, 
he described a man sweeping with a brush, soldiers, a 
camp, and, lastly, the Sultan. The magician desired him 
to call for flags, and he described several, of various colours, 



70 



FAILURE OF THE CHARM. 



as coming at his call. When a red flag made its appear- 
ance, the magician said the charm was complete, and that 
we might call for whom we pleased. Sir Henry Hardinge 
was the first person asked for ; and, after some seconds" 
delay, the boy exclaimed, " He is here !" He described 
him as a little man in a black dress, white cravat, and 
yellow (perhaps grey) hair, I asked if he had both legs. 
Alas ! he declared he had only one. I then asked for 

Lord E n. He described him as a very fine, long 

man,with green glass over his eyes, dressed in black, and 
always bending forward. I then asked for Lablache, who 
appeared as a little young man, with a straw hat : the 
Venus de Medici represented herself as a young lady, with 
a bonnet and green veil ;, and the boy was turned out. 

We then got an intelligent little negro slave belonging 
to the house. The magician did not seem to like him 
much, but went through all the former proceedings over 
again; during which, the actors formed a very picturesque 
group; the anxious magician, with his long, yellow robes; 
the black child, with his red tarboosh, white tunic, glit- 
tering teeth, and bead-like eyes, gazing earnestly into his 
dark little hand. The dragoman held a candle, whose 
light shone vividly on the child, the old man, and his own 
fine figure ; his black beard and moustache contrasting 
well with those of the hoary necromancer, as did his blue 
and crimson dress with the pale drapery of the other. 
Picturesqueness, however, was the only result. The boy 
insisted that he could see nothing; though his starting 
eye-balls showed how anxiously he strove to do so. The 
hour was too late for any other boys to be found, and so 
the seance broke up. 

When he was gone, I asked my dragoman, Mahmoud 
(who had been dragoman to Lord Prudhoe during both his 
visits to Egypt), what he thought of the magician. He 
said he considered him rather a humbug than otherwise ! 
but added that there certainly was something in it. He 
said, not only did Lord Prudhoe believe in the magic, but 

that Mrs. L , a most enterprising traveller, whom he 

had once attended, had the ink put into her hand, and 
that she clearly saw the man with the brush, the soldiers, 
and the camp, though she could see no more. He told 



MEMPHIS. 



71 



me that the people of Cairo believed the Sheikh had made 
a league with the " genti a basso," and that he himself 
believed him to be anything but a santon. A friend of 
mine at Alexandria said he knew an Englishman who had 
learnt the art, and practised it with success; and a lady 
mentioned to me that a young female friend of hers had 
tried the experiment, and had been so much terrified by 
the first apparition, that she fainted, and could not be 
induced to try it again. 

This singular imposture, after a long success, has now 
been fairly denounced by Mr. Lane, the sanction of whose 
name first gave it strength and interest.* 



CHAPTER IX. 

LIFE UPON THE NILE — MEMPHIS, 

Smooth went our boat along the summer seas, 
Leaving — for so it seemed — a world behind, 
Its cares, its sounds, its shadows ; we reclined 

Upon the sunny deck, heard but the breeze 

That whispered through the palms, or idly played 
With the lithe flag aloft — a forest scene 
On either side drew its slope line of green, 

And hung the water's edge with shade. 

Above thy woods, Memphis, pyramids pale 

Peered as we passed ; and Nile's soft azure hue, 
Gleaming 'mid the grey desert, met the view 

Where hung at intervals the scarce seen sail. 

Oh ! were this little boat to us the world, 

As thus we wandered far from sounds of care, 
Circled with friends and gentle maidens fair, 

While southern airs the waving pennant curled, 

How sweet were life's long voyage, till in peace 

W r e gained that haven still, where all things cease ! 

Bowles. 

Reader ! even you may some day be induced to change 
the feverish life of Europe, with all its perplexing enjoy- 
ments, its complicated luxuries, and its manifold cares — 
for the silence, simplicity, and freedom of a life on the 
* See the " Englishwoman in Egypt." 



72 



VALLEY OF THE NILE. 



desert and the river. Has society palled upon you! 
Have the week-day struggles of the world made you 
wish for some short sabbath of repose ? Has oar coarse 
climate chafed your lungs, and do they require the sooth- 
ing of balmily-breathing breezes? — Come away to the 
Nile! Has love, or hate, or ambition, or any other ephe- 
meral passion, ruffled up a storm in your butterboat of 
existence? Here you will find "that calm counsellor 
Egeria, whose name is Solitude."* Have the marvel] 
stories of the old world sunk into your soul, and do you 
seek for their realization? Or have mere curiosity and 
the spirit of unrest driven you forth to wander? — Come 
away to the Nile! Here are sunshines that are never 
clouded; and fragrant airs as gentle as a maiden's whisper, 
instead of northern gales that howl round you as if you 
were an old battlement. Here are nights all a-glow 
with stars, and a crescent moon, that seems bowing to you 
by courtesy, not bent double by rheumatism. Here is 
the highest species of monastic retirement : you stand apart 
from the world; you see its inhabitants so widely differing 
from yourself in their appearance, their habits, their hopes, 
and their fears, that you are enabled to look upon man in 
the abstract, and to study his phenomena comparatively 
without prejudice. As you recede from Europe further and 
further on, towards the silent regions of the Past, you live 
more and more in that Past : the river over which vou 
glide — the desert, the forest, the very air you breathe — 
are calm; the temples in their awful solitudes, the 
colossal statues, the tombs, with their guardian sphinxes, 
all are profoundly calm ; and at length even your island 
restlessness softens down and merges into the universal 
peace around. 

The sun was setting behind the Pyramids when I em- 
barked; but night and day made little difference in this 
country, and the former is only associated with the idea 
of rest when it happens to be too dark to see. It was 
bright moonlight as I mustered our swarthy crew on the 
rivers edge. Their countenances were fall of hope and 
eagerness; and, when their inspection was concluded. 
* Sir Buiwer Lytton. 



EVENING ON THE RIVER. 



73 



each kissed my hand and placed it on his head, in sign 
of devotion and fidelity. Their dress was principally a 
pair of loose cotton drawers reaching to the knee, a long 
blue shirt, and the red cloth cap called a "tarboosh," 
which, on state occasions, is wound round with a white 
turban by the lower classes. The crew consisted of a 
rais, or captain, a pilot, and eight rowers, whom, with one 
exception, we found good-humoured, faithful, honest, 
and affectionate fellows. Two servants completed the 
equipment; one of whom, named Mahmoud, has the 
welL-deserved character of being the best dragoman in 
Egypt. 

Now the cable is loosed, a long towing-line is drawn 
along the shore by the sailors; the pilot perches himself 
on the spar deck; the rais squats at the bow ; and the Nile 
ripples round our prow, as we start on a two months' 
voyage, with as little ceremony as if only crossing the 
river in a ferry-boat. Palms, palaces, and busy crowds, 
glide by ; the river bends, and the wind becomes favour- 
able, the sailors wade or swim on board, enormous sails 
fall from the long yards, like wide unfolding wings; the 
union-jack floats from the poop, and our private flag from 
the lofty spars; the pyramids of Gizeh on our right, the 
distant minarets of Cairo on our left, slowly recede; and * 
the cool night-breezes follow us, laden with perfumes 
from Ehoda, and faint murmurs from the great city. The 
crew gather about the fire with "dark faces pale around 
that rosy flame;" and discuss, in a whisper, the appearance 
of the pale stranger, who reclines on a pile of Persian 
carpets as contentedly as if he had been born and bred 
under the shadow of the palm. 

It was a lovely night, with just wind enough to bosom 
out our snowy sails that heaved as with a languid res- 
piration ; the moon shone forth in glory as if she were 
still the bright goddess of the land, and loved it well. No 
longer do the wbite-robed priests of Isis celebrate her 
mystic rites in solemn procession along these shadowy 
banks ; no longer the Egyptian maidens move in choral 
dances through these darkling groves, with lotus garlands 
on their brow, and mirrors on their breasts, which flashed 
back the smile of the worshipped moon at every pant of 



74 



NIuIIT SCENERY. 



those young bosoms,, to typify that the heart within was 
all her own, and imaged but her deity. — There is no 
longer mystic pomp or midnight pageant in the land of 
Egypt: we may look in vain for venerable priest or vestal 
virgin now. Yet still does Isis seem to smile lovingly 
over her deserted shrines, and her pale light harmonizes 
well with the calm dwellings of the mighty Dead. These, 
with their pyramids, their palaces, their temples, and 
their tombs, are tbe real inhabitants of this dreamy land. 

This sailing on the moon-lit Nile has au inexpressible 
charm : every sight is softened, every sound is musical, 
every air breathes balm. The pyramids, silvered by the 
moon, tower over the dark palms, and the broken ridges 
of the Arabian hills stand clearly out from the star- 
spangled sky. Distant lights, gleaming faintly among the 
scarce-seen minarets, mark the site of Cairo, whose voices 
come at intervals as faintly to the ear. Sometimes the 
scream of a startled pelican, or the gurgle of some huge 
fish as he wallows in the water, may disturb the silence for 
a moment, but the calm that follows is only the more 
profound. 

All nature seems so tranced, and all the world wound 
in such a dream, that we can scarcely realize our own 
identity: hark to the jackal's cry among the Moslem 
tombs ! See where the swarthy pilot sits, statue-like, with 
his turban and flowirjg beard : those plains before us have 
! een trod by Pharaohs : these waters have borne 
Cleopatra : yonder citadel was the home of Saladin ! We 
need not sleep to dream. 

The night is gone — gone like a passing shadow : the 
sun springs suddenly into the throne of purple and rose- 
ured clouds that the misty morn has arraved for him. 
There is scarcely a dawn : even now it was night — then 
day — suddenly as a cannon's flash. 

Our boat lay moored to the bank. Mahnioud started to 
his feet, and shouted " Yallough ! " like a trumpet. Till 
then the deck seemed vacant : but then up starts the 
crew, who sleep in grave-like apertures between the 
planks, wrapped in their white capotes — a shroud-like 
garment that gives to their apparitions a rather resur- 
rection appearance. All nature seems to waken now; 



MORNING ON THE RIVER. 



75 



flocks of turtle-doves are rustling round the villages ; dogs 
are barking the flocks to pasture, cocks are crowing, 
donkeys are braying, water-wheels are creaking, and the 
Moslems prostrate themselves in prayer ; with forehead 
to the ground, or hands crossed upon their bosoms — 
their eyes motionless, and their lips quivering with the 
first chapter of the Koran. 

For my own part, a plunge into the Nile constitutes 
the principal part of a toilette in which razor or looking- 
glass are unknown. Re-dressed, re-turbaned, and re- 
seated on my carpet, Abdallah, with a graceful obeisance, 
presents a chibouque of fragrant Latakeea, as different 
from our coarse English tobacco as a pastile from burnt 
feathers ; and Mahmoud offers a little cup of coffee's very 
essence. In the mean time, the crew are pitching the 
tent upon a little lawn beneath some palm-trees: for 
yonder forest shadows the ruins of Memphis, and the gar- 
dens wherein Moses used to wander with Pharaoh's 
daughter. 

The tent is pitched, and in the East there is no such 
home as the tent supplies. 

Make the divan — the carpets spread — 

The ready cushions pile : 
Rest, weary heart ! rest, weary head ! 

From pain and pride awhile. 
And all your happiest memories woo, 

And mingle with your dreams. 
The yellow desert glimmering through 

The subtle veil of beams. 

Then fold the tent — then on again ; 

One spot of ashen black, 
The only sign that there has lain 

The traveller's recent track ; 
And gladly forward, — safe to find 

At noon and eve a home, 
Till we have left our tent behind 

The homeless ocean-foam.* 

In Syria the tent was my only home; but on the Nile 
we seldom used it, as we were generally sailing at night, 
and slept on board the boat. She was of the class called 
Kanjiah; about fifty feet long, with a mast amidships, 
* Milnes. 



76 



ACCOMMODATION ON BOARD. 



and another at the bow, raking forward. From these 
masts sprang two spars of immense length, to which were 
bent lateen sails in proportion : these are very difficult to 
handle, especially in the gusty parts of the river, which 
the mountains overhang. The Arabs are miserable sailors 
and excellent swimmers, so that Europeans who are not 
predestinarians or amphibious should keep a good look- 
out. Close to the bows of the boat a complicated fireplace, 
with oven, &c, is built of brick and mortar; and on this, 
little charcoal fireplaces, like the holes in a bagatelle-table, 
are for ever sparkling under coffee, or kabobs, or some 
other Egyptian condiment. The crew sit two and two 
along the thauts, or sleep between them ; and where these 
end there is a small carpeted space, generally covered with 
an awning. Then comes a little cabin, open in front, not 
unlike the boxes at Vauxhall Gardens. In this we dined, 
and kept our books and guns. Within was our sleeping 
apartment, with a berth on each side; and beyond this was 
a luggage-room, and one or two smaller apartments.'* 
Such was our river-home for two months, and a very com- 
fortable one we found it, with a few trifling exceptions. 

While I was at Memphis, the boat was unloaded and 
sunk, to clear her of rats, of which there was great 
slaughter. While this and other preparations were being 
made, I roamed over the country in search of antiquities 
and adventures. 

I wandered towards the forest of palms that embosoms 
the lake of Acherusia, and the few traces that remain of 
the ancient city of the Pharaohs. The former — its gloomy 
waters shadowed by dark foliage, and broken only by a 
promontory black with blasted and gnarled stems — was a 
spot that Kembrandt would have loved to paint; with the 
vivid sunshine, here and there bursting through the gloom, 
like bars of burning gold. Nor would he have forgotten 
Charon, with his spectral passengers steering his demon- 
ship to that vast necropolis, whose tombs are pyramids. 
Some mounds among these forests are generally received 
as Memphis : the site of Vulcan's temple, and that where 
the bull Apis was kept, are supposed to be ascertained: 
Cambyses, the tauricide, however, coming so soon after 
* See frontisjjiece. 



DESOLATION OF THE COUNTRY. 



77 



Nebuchadnezzar ; and the desert — the most resistless 
invader of all — have left little trouble to the tourist, little 
harvest for the antiquary. The only inhabitant I saw was 
Rhamses the Great, who lies upon his face in the mud 
with a benignant expression of countenance that has rather 
a ludicrous effect, considering his attitude. He is forty feet 
long, and, with his wife and four sons, must have formed 
an imposing family-party in front of the Temple of Vulcan. 
The lady aud young gentlemen have disappeared; let 
us hope they are gone to the Elysian fields, which ought 
to be somewhere in this neighbourhood; but, as is natural, 
they are much more difficult to find than the other place, 
which lies yonder — near enough ! 

The quick twilight was come and gone, as I wandered 
and wondered in this strange and lonely scene ; the last 
rays of light fell upon the pyramid of Cheops, just visible 
through a vista of gigantic palm-trees, that opened from 
the lake of Acherusia, on the distant desert. I stole down 
to the water's edge, to get within gun-shot of some peli- 
cans; but the solemn and thoughtful aspect of the scene 
converted my murderous intention into a fit of musing; 
and the old trees seemed mysteriously to whisper of the 
dread prophecy: — "The country shall be destitute of that 
whereof it was full, when I shall smite all them that 
dwell therein; and Noph shall be desolate." 

The next day I was sitting at the door of my tent, 
towards sunset, enjoying, under the rose-colouring influence 
of the chibouque, the mood of mind that my situation 
naturally superinduced. At my feet flowed the Nile, 
reflecting the lofty spars of our gaily-painted boat; beyond 
the river was a narrow strip of vegetation, some palm and 
acacia trees; then a tract of desert, bounded by the Arabian 
hills, all purple with the setting sunlight. Far away on 
the horizon, the minarets and citadel of Cairo were faintly 
sketched against the sky; around me lay fields of corn, 
beneath which Memphis, with all its wonders, lay buried; 
and farther on, a long succession of pyramids towered over 
the dark belt of forest that led along the river. Suddenly 
the sleeping sailors started to their feet ; a shout was heard 
from the wood, and I saw my friend slowly emerging from 
its shade, accompanied by some India-bound friends of his, 



TRE VOYAGE. 



^'ho were escorting him so far upon his desert way. We 
passed the evening together, and something more, for morn- 
ing biushed at finding the party only then separating — our 
friends for India, we for Ethiopia — away ! 

It was just daylight on the 8th of February, when we 
really began our voyage; the capacious tent shrinks into a 
little bag; its furniture resumes its duties in the cabins of 
the boat: and then we are off. 

Eight Arabs towed us along, for there was not a breath 
of wind : they went capering, singing, and laughing, as if 
labour was their sport: a red skullcap, a loose blue shirt, 
and red slippers, were their only dress. Sometimes the 
breeze would freshen suddenly, and the boat shoot a-head; 
then they swam on board, let fall the sails, and with 
tambourine and pipe struck up their everlasting song. 
Generally, however, in the day-time, they were towing from 
morning until sunset; the pilot squatted motionless on the 
poop; the rais reclining at the bow, now and then exchang- 
ing a joke with the two servants, who alone busied about, 
in the constant preparation of pipes, coffee, dinner,and other 
refreshment. 

Keenly we enjoyed this, our first essay at Nile navi- 
gation. Reclined on cushions, under a thick awning that 
made twilight of the blazing sunshine ; surrounded by 
the strange African scenery, every change of which had 
so much interest for us ; our books and maps lay beside 
us, ever ready to explain or illustrate what we saw; and 
our guns, lying close at hand, were in at least as frequent 
exercise. 

Along our left ran the chain of the Mokattam, or 
Arabian hills ; now receding, now approaching to the 
river with an interval of level ground, varying from three 
to nine miles. This is, for the most part, desert, and 
utterly barren are those hills ; but a rich green stripe of 
vegetation runs along the banks, parked off from the 
sandy track by groups, or forests of palm-trees. On the 
right is a wider tract of cultivation, millet, bearded 
wheat, lupines, <fec; and this plain is bounded by the 
Lybian desert and its hills. The banks are enlivened bv 
frequent villages, always sheltered by palm groves ; and 



EXUBERANCE OF ANIMAL LIFE. 



79 



now and then, in some lonely spot, appear the ruins of 
some city of the olden time, or column skeletons of a 
temple ; and, far as the eye can reach, pyramids peer at 
intervals over the sand-hill, or the forest. 

The concentration of vitality along the Nile is very 
striking. In the desert there is no sign of life ; along the 
river it seems to swarm under every aspect. The waters 
themselves are thronged by huge, strange-looking fishes ; 
myriads of flies and gnats buzz in chorus to the ripple of 
the waters: on the bank innumerable lizards are glancing, 
snakes are twining, and countless insects of unimaginable 
forms are crawling. The rank vegetation teems with 
insects, and the low spits of sand, that run occasionally 
into the river, are all of a quiver with wild fowl: could 
one throw a net over 

" Those rich, restless wings that gleam 
Variously in the sun's bright beam," 

one would enclose a rare aviary; snow-white pelicans, 
purple Nile geese, herons, ibis, lapwings, and a crowd of 
nameless birds, seem masquerading there. The very air 
is darkened, and rustling with flocks of beautiful turtle 
doves, birds of paradise, hoopoes, and strange swallows ; 
and, high over all, soar the eagle and the hawk on watch 
for the living, and the vulture scenting for the dead. 
Flocks of sheep and goats are browsing about each 
village ; troops of wild dogs prowling, camels stalking 
along the footpath, and buffaloes making their eternal 
rounds in the water-wheels that irrigate the land. 

Amidst all this exuberance of life, man only languishes; 
yet the fecundity of the Egyptian is proverbial. Vainly 
do the fish prey on the insects, and the eagle and the 
hawk on the feathered tribes ; they multiply notwith- 
standing; but man has his tyrant, whose influence is 
deadlier far; and 500,000 souls have withered from Egypt, 
within the last ten years, under the blight of conscription 
and oppression. It is not only the loss of men that is 
caused by enrolment, battle, and disease; but, when the 
Pasha's pressgangs are out recruiting, whole villages be- 
come deserted. The men fly to the deserts, to escape his 
odious service, and their wives and children dare not 
remain behind them, to meet the vengeance of the baffled 



80 



DREAD OF CONSCRIPTION. 



pursuer. In the desert they perish by thousands ; and 
when pursuit has passed by, and the man-catchers have 
returned to their camp, many a roof remains deserted, 
for those who made a home there lie with bleached bones 
upon the desert. 

The dread of conscription is painfully illustrated in the 
number of maimed you meet everywhere. At least two- 
thirds of the male population of Egypt have deprived 
themselves of the right eye, or of the fore-finger of the 
right hand. There are even professional persons who go 
about to poison the eye, which they do with verdigris, or 
sew it up altogether. Our equipment consisted of twelve 
men ; of these only ten were liable to conscription, 
and seven of them were either one-eyed or fore-finger- 
less. 

There is something very time-stealing in the pleasant 
monotony of Nile travel : evening comes on so softly, 
morning rises with such unvarying brightness ; the occu- 
pations of each day are so similar, that days become 
weeks, and weeks months, almost imperceptibly. We 
rise early, for the sake of the cool : on emerging from 
our cabin, a cup of coffee and a pipe meet us on the 
threshold; we take our guns, and walk along the edge of 
the cultivated land, in pursuit of quail or red-legged part- 
ridge, or unknown birds, by whose death ornithology 
profits as little as our cuisine. Mahmoud, at the same 
time, (while the sailors are towing) pays a morning visit 
to the villages, in search of poultry, eggs, butter, and milk: 
sometimes we accompany him to explore ; and sometimes 
visit a temple or a jungle with Abdallah, About nine, 
we take a breakfast that Ude might approve, for Mahrnoud 
is a first-rate artiste; and then the unfailing pipe promotes 
thought, and conversation, and repose of mind and body; 
for the noonday sun is blazing fiercely, and the very 
Arabs move languidly along. 

It is passing pleasant, with a pleasant companion (and 
such was my rare lot) to find one's-self, for the first and 
only time in life, in the enjoyment of perfect, unbroken, 
unreproachful leisure. The calm life we lead, the calm 
climate that we breathe, the absence of all disturbance, of 
anxiety, or care, or hope, or fear — all this presents such a 



A RL' GAR- MANUFACTORY. 



8] 



contrast to the life we have left, and must soon reiurju so, 
that we can scarcely believe in our own identity. 

This sense of enjoyment, however, lasts only .tor a 
season, and we were long enough upon the Nile to wear 
it out; the instinct of action, the force of habit, and 
Northern restlessness soon returned. Long before our 
voyage was concluded, we pined for Europe and its work- 
ing world, with all its wear and tear, and struggles and 
distractions. 

At sunset, if there is no wind, we moor for the night 
alongside the bank, and then there is always time for a 
pleasant stroll by starlight, with good promise of adven- 
ture. Then coffee, pipes, books, and bed. 

Thus we lived a pleasant week, and arrived at the 
prettiest city on the Nile, called Mineyeh, the abode of 
the good Ebn Khasid, whose history forms an interesting 
episode in Lord Lindsay's " Letters." 

The next morning we reached the village and factory 
of Rhoda, where is a sugar plantation of the Pasha's. Its 
superintendent is an intelligent and hospitable Irishman, 
a Mr. M'Therson, who left the West Indies on the eman- 
cipation of the slaves, and who has been here ever since. 
The West Indian sugar-cane thrives here; its juice is ex- 
pressed by two English steam-engines, and is refined after- 
wards by eggs alone — Islamism not allowing the use of 
blood. The consequence is that the sugar here is of a 
very coarse quality, and it is only by an exercise of des- 
potism that it attains the price of four-pence a jDound at 
the factory. This is one of the Pashas monopolies; it 
occupies 300 labourers, who are all conscripts ; they no- 
minally receive a piastre a day (about two-pence half- 
penny) for their labour ; but this is always a year in 
arrear, and, when paid, is paid half in kind. 

Every boat ascending the Nile hoists the flag of the 
country to which its proprietor belongs. Besides this, 
each traveller, before leaving Cairo, adopts a private Hag. 
and registers it at the hotels with his own name and that 
of his boat. Thus, every stranger, on arriving at Cairo, 
learns who is " up " the river, and for what flag to look. 

I had been expecting for some days to meet an old 
friend; and hearing that there was an English flag at 

G 



82 



A SLAVE-MARKET. 



Siout, we pushed on day and night, stimulating our crew 
by bribes, till we arrived at its port — the little village of 
El Hamra. 

We were disappointed in meeting our friend ; but, as 
our crew had stipulated to remain one day here to bake 
bread for the remainder of the voyage, we mounted 
donkeys, and, accompanied by Mahmoud and one of the 
crew carrying provisions, started for Siout. 

This is the capital of " The Said," or Upper Egypt : it 
is approached from the river by a road that runs along a 
causeway, under an avenue of plane-trees, about a mile in 
length. The city itself possesses baths, bazaars, rope- 
walks, and a cotton-factory, a slave-market, and the best 
pipe-manufactory in the East ; but, notwithstanding all 
these advantages, it is dirty, unpaved, and poverty- 
stricken. I visited the slave-market, where the pro- 
prietor at first refused me admittance, but I understood 
enough of Arabic manners by this time to pass him by 
unnoticed ; whereupon he attended me very civilly over 
his establishment. A brace of pistols in one's girdle, and 
a kurbasb, or hippopotamus-whip, in one's hand, does 
more in the East towards the promotion of courtesy, 
good-humour, and good-fellowship, than all the smiles 
and eloquence that ever were exerted. The slaves here 
looked miserable enough, just arrived from Darfur, across 
the desert. The Jelab, or slave-merchant, had lost great 
numbers of them from hunger and fatigue, and said that 
those remaining would not repay him for his outlay. 

Passing out of the city towards the mountains, we met 
numbers of women-slaves, washing and filling water-jars 
in the canal. They wore as little covering as Eve, but 
the eye soon becomes accustomed to this ; dark people 
never look naked, at least to white ones. 

After an hour's ride, we arrived at the foot of the steep 
but terraced, calcareous hills, which formed a sort of vertical 
cemetery for the inhabitants of Lycopolis, the predecessor 
of Siout. Herein the piety of old dug tombs of the 
magnitude and fashion of temples : " For," said they, 
" those whom we bury now as mere men, when they are 
awakened, will be as gods, and must not be ashamed of 
the places wherein they have lain so long." Wolves 



THE STABL 1) ANTAR. 



83 



wou'M also appear to have feelings on the subject, for 
numerous mumniies of these brutes have been found as 
carefully preserved as those of their worshippers. 

Our donkeys clambered actively up the sides of the 
crumbling mountain, and at length we stood on a platform 
in front of the wonderful Stabl d'Antar, commanding a 
view of about a hundred miles of the valley of the Nile. 
A vast level panorama, bounded by the chains of the 
Arabian and Lybian hills, lay spread before us, diversified 
with every shade of green, and watered by the Nile, 
creeping like a silvery serpent through the green savan- 
nahs. This wide plain was intersected by numerous dykes, 
or canals, which regulate the inundation of the Nile ; 
and, as these are generally planted with trees, they help 
to give character to the somewhat monotonous lands- 
cape. Here and there, a few tents were pitched in a 
green meadow, in which horses grazed, but generally it 
was under agriculture of exuberant fertility ; wheat, and 
flax, and Indian corn, with here and there a sugar-cane 
plantation, or a grove of acacias or palm-trees. 

The sun was high and burning hot, without one cloud 
in all the sky, when we took refuge in the Stabl d' An tar. 
The portal of this splendid charnel-house is about thirty 
feet high, hewn out of the calcareous rock. The roof, 
here and there, displayed traces of beautiful designs, in blue 
and yellow that once was gold. Within this were lofty 
halls, and many chambers, with hieroglyphics, and some 
fine human figures on the walls. I do not attempt to 
describe these or any other antiquities at length, as those 
who visit them will consult higher authority : and those 
who only read of them would be fatigued by any dry 
detail. There are many tomb temples of large size cut 
into this mountain, but the smaller burying-places are so 
numerous that they present the appearance of a huge 
rabbit-warren. 

I looked down from the habitations of the ancient dead, 
on the rich, luxuriant plains and swarming city of the 
living; there was no cicerone on that lovely mountain 
to disturb reflection : perishable flowers were blooming 
round me, fresh and perfect as when, three thousand years 
ago, they were gathered by those mummy hands as a 

G 2 



84 



CHANGE OF SCENERY. 



wreath wherewith to adorn that mummy brow. Gossip- 
ing Arabs were irreve¥erently kicking the shins of the 
powerful dead, and probably there was no relationship 
between them to aggravate the indignity, though they 
occupied the same soil. 

Who were these mighty dead, who have left such monu- 
ments behind them, to awe the thoughtful and puzzle the 
frivolous? Here is a tomb as large as the throne-room 
at St. James's, and once as elaborately adorned with 
carving and gilding, and delicate art : part of it is incom- 
plete — the mark of the chisel and each line of work are 
still, as it were, freshly left. What then caused the sud- 
den arrest of life and labour here? None can ever tell. 
One hour, a realm alive with strength and energy, and 
mighty projects such as the world has never conceived 
before or since: the next, and all seems changed. That 
mighty race is gone for ever, and another, heavy with the 
curse of their great patriarch, arises ; crushed and degraded, 
tyrant after tyrant has trodden them down for two thousand 
years till now. 

Now to the Nile again. 

What a versatile power our mind possesses of adapting 
nature to its mood ! It is not what a country is, but 
what we are, that renders it rich in interest, or pregnant 
with enjoyment. Even in this monotonous life we lead 
upon the Nile (though the scenery, and even the events 
among which we live, are generally the repetition of the 
former days' experience), the fluctuating mind makes its 
own variety, and, to say truth, we are not a little indebted 
to the illusion. Even Egypt cannot furnish an inex- 
haustible supply of interesting objects; and although these 
are unique in their way, the traveller requires to have 
recourse to study or sheer exercise, if he would preserve 
his elasticity of mind. The same river is ever murmur- 
ing round us ; each clay-built village, buried in its graceful 
grove of palms, appears but a recurrence of the last ; the 
same range of the Arabian mountains, unvarying in form, 
runs along our left; here and there, the Lybian chain 
of hills advances and retires on our lefty but it seems 
always the same hill or glen that lies before us; there are 
$vcr the same cloudless sky and delicious temperature 



THE FIRST CROCODILE. 



85 



(how welcome would be a storm!); the same gorgeous 
sunsets and nightly blue, starry with constellations by 
which Abraham steered his course from the land of 
Chaldea; day by day, and week by week, we are tran- 
quilly floating by colossal temples, mountain pyramids, 
excavated hills, man-made rivers, and monk-made her- 
mitages, in which a hysena might feel lonely. 

Now we glide under a cliff too steep for even the bold 
hermit to find footing; but a convent crowns it, and 
Coenobites now conspire in the cause which the hermit 
worked out in solitude. Hark! a cry rises from the 
water, "Carita! per Famor di Dio! Christian!! elieeson !" 
and half a dozen aquatic monks are begging alms round 
the boat as they swim. The Moslem crew show little dis- 
position to befriend these beggars: our dragoman hands 
over some piastres, which we suspect are paras, with a 
very indifferent grace; and the floating friars return to 
their cliffs, on which, some weeks later, I fired at two 
crocodiles. 

The first time a man fires at a crocodile is an epoch in 
his life. We had only now arrived in the waters where 
they abound, for it is a curious fact that none are ever 
seen below Mineyeh; though Herodotus speaks of them 
as fighting with the dolphins at the mouths of the Nile. 
A prize had been offered for the first man who detected 
a crocodile, and the crew had been for two days on the 
alert in search of them. Buoyed up with the expectation 
of such game, we had latterly reserved our fire for them 
exclusively; and the wild duck and turtle — nay, even the 
vulture and the eagle, had swept past, or soared above us 
in security. 

At length, the cry of "Timseach, timseach!" was heard 
from half a dozen claimants of the proffered prize, and 
half a dozen black fingers were eagerly pointed to a spit 
of sand, on which were strewn apparently some logs of 
trees. It was a covey of crocodiles! Hastily and silently 
the boat was run in shore, and 1 anxiously clambered up 
the steep bank that commanded the gigantic game. My 
intended victims might have prided themselves on their 
superior nonchalance; and, indeed, as I approached them, 
there seemed to be a sneer on their ghastly mouths and 



CROCODILE SHOOTING. 



winking eyes. Slowly they rose, one after the other, and 
waddled to the water, all but one — the most gallant or 
most gorged of the party. He lay still until I was within 
a hundred yards of him ; then, slowly rising on his fin- 
like legs, he lumbered towards the river, looking askance 
at me with an expression of countenance that seemed 
to say, "He can do me no harm; but we may as well 
have a swim/' I took aim at the throat of the supercilious 
brute, and, as soon my hand steadied, the very pulsation 
of my ringer pulled, the trigger: forth flew the bullet; 
and my excited ear could catch the thud with which it 
plunged into the scaly leather of his neck : his waddle 
became a plunge, the waves closed over him, and the suu 
shone upon calm water as I reached the brink of the shore 
that was still indented by the waving of his gigantic tail. 
But there is blood upon the water, and he rises for a 
moment to the surface: "A hundred piastres for the 
timseach !" shouted I, and half a dozen Arabs plunged into 
the stream. There ! he rises again, and the Blacks dash 
at him as if he hadn't a tooth in his head — now he is 
gone, the waters close over him, and I never saw him 
since. 

From that time we saw hundreds of crocodiles of all 
sizes, and fired shots enough at them for a Spanish revolu- 
tion ; but we never could get possession of any, even if 
we hit them, which to this day remains uncertain. I 
believe, most travellers, who are honest enough, will make 
nearly the same confession. 

Crocodiles stuffed were often brought to us to buy ; but 
the Arabs take a great deal of trouble to get them, making 
an ambush in the sands where they resort, and taking aim 
when within a few yards of their foe; for as such they 
regard these monsters, though they seldom suffer from 
them. Above the cataracts, a Greek officer in the Pasha's 
service told me they are very fierce, and the troops at 
Sennaar lost numbers of men by them and the hippo- 
potamus, when bathing; but I heard of only one death 
occurring below the cataracts this year. This was of an 
old woman, who was drawing water near Keneh : a croco- 
dile encircled her with his tail, brushed her into the water, 
and then, seizing her by the waist, held her under the 



GAME ON THE BANKS. 



87 



water as long as slie continued to move. When lifeless, 
lie swam with the corpse, across the river, to the oppo- 
site bank; and the villagers now assembled, saw him 
quietly feeding on their old friend, as an otter might upon 
a salmon. The Egyptian, who narrated this circumstance, 
told us with a grin that the woman was his grandmother; 
chat he had shot the assassin three days afterwards, and 
sold him to an Englishman for seven and sixpence ! 

The king of the crocodiles is said to reside at Denderah, 
and the queen some forty miles higher up the river. This 
separation of the royal family does not appear to have any 
injurious effect on the interests of the rest of the grim com- 
munity : there was scarcely a sunny bank between these 
regal residences, whereon a crowd of crocodiles was not to 
be seen, hatching eggs, or plots against passengers. The 
parent crocodile deposits her eggs, to the number of from 
80 to 100, in the sand, which is a sort of foundling hospital 
for her race : even hens won't hatch in Egypt, so it could 
scarcely be expected that crocodiles would set the example. 
The sun, then, is the foster-mother, and the only watchers 
by the egg-shell cradle are the fishes and the birds of prey. 
Imagine a nest of crocodile-eggs, when the embryos feel 
that it is time to make a start of it, and roll about the 
shells, attempting to emancipate themselves. Out they 
come, and make a rush for the river; a flock of hawks and 
kites is on the wing for them, the ichneumons run at them, 
fishes gape for them ; yet enough escape to make one 
rather squeamish about bathing in the neighbourhood, 
until all-powerful habit reconciles one to their society. 

In the month of March the north wind is rare, and the 
principal progress made up the river is by towing. An 
the Arabs cannot walk with such a drawback more than 
two miles an hour, the traveller has abundant opportu- 
nities for pedestrian excursions. The corn-fields afford a 
fair quantity of red-legged partridges and abundance of 
quails towards the end of March. About the gloaming of 
the evening, you occasionally, but rarely, get a shot at a 
jackall or hyaena ; and in Nubia your hopes are excited 
by tales of gazelles, and even of lions. 

At one time we took to fishing; and though we had 
only twine and crooked pins for tackle, we met with the 



88 



MEADOW-FLOWERS. 



most signal success. It is true, the fish were strange and 

hideous to the eye. and detestable to the palate; but it was 
gratifying to our vanity to circumvent fish that were once 
deified by the men who built Thebes." ' 

Our botanical researches were very limited, not only by 
our want of science, but of subjects. There may have been 
a great variety of weeds; but. as children only open a book 
for pictures, we only sought for flowers, and these were 
very few and far between. The cotton-flower, for the sake 
of its novelty : the meadow- saffron, the convolvulus, the 
buttercup, and the orchis, for the sake of home, were 
often pressed into our service, and adorned our breakfast- 
table. 

We are now in Upper Egypt, the country of the Douni- 
palm. which resembles a gigantic gooseberry-bush, stuck 
over with dark green fans in full flirt, instead of leaves. 
It is very quaint, but not to be compared in beauty to the 
common palm, or date-tree.^ 

At each village where we halt for supplies, a little 
market is improvised round about us. The old men squat 
in a circle in the front places, smoking their pipes, and 
discussing us as coolly and gravely as if we were mere 
abstractions. The men offer spears, or crocodiles, or 
antiquities, fur sale; the women, butter, eggs, milk, and 
poultry — the latter cost about two-pence each ; eggs 

* This noble tree is indigenous in Egypt, and seenis at home in 
the desert. Its tall, straight trunk and luxuriant head must have 
given the idea to the early architect of the column and the capital, 
long before the acanthus, clustering round the block of marble, 
taught the Greek. Its produce, when cultivated, is very great, and 
forms the staple article of food to the poor Egyptians. Every palm 
in the country is registered, and pays a tax of from twopence to 
fourpence each. The fruit is not the only useful part, however : of 
its fibres, ropes are manufactured: of its leaves, baskets; of its lighter 
wood, hencoops and light bedsteads ; of its timber, with the addition 
of some mud-houses and boats; and even the kernels of its fruit are 
bruised for the food of camels. 

The forests that it forms are very picturesque, though solemn, from 
the deep shadow that its foliage casts over the arcades of columnar 
trunks. It harmonizes beautifully with the ruins of the tombs and 
temples; but, most of all, it appears to advantage when standing 
alone in the desert, waving aloft its verdant plume, " the banner of 
the climate. n 



RAFTS OF POTTERY. 



89 



about three-pence a hundred ; butter, seven-pence a pound; 
a sheep costs about four and sixpence. 

On arriving at Keneb, we gave the crew a feast, con- 
sisting of an old ram, which was preferred to younger 
mutton, because it " stood more chewing." The creature 
was alive, killed, skinned, cut up, boiled, and devoured, 
within an hour: his very eyes, feet, intestines, and, I do 
believe his horns were swallowed ; nothing remained but 
his skin. Even this, in the first moment of digestive 
leisure, was stretched, while warm, over the drum — dried 
almost immediately by the hot sun ; and in the dance and 
song which followed, it actually contributed to the fes- 
tivities consequent upon its proprietor's devourment, and, 
like Zitzka's skin, was beaten with thrilling associations of 
its owner. 

Sometimes we met a raft, formed of earthen vessels 
manufactured at Keneh, and tied together on a slight raft 
of palm wood ; mugs, jugs, pitchers, and pipkins, formed 
into a floating island, on which lived its navigators with 
their wives and children ; sometimes a number of bees 
taking a cruize for change of air and flowery pasture. The 
Egyptians are very curious in honey ; and they say that 
the greater the variety the bee feeds on, the better is his 
produce ; therefore, they take their hives up and clown the 
river : true to the nomade instinct of their ancestors, the 
locality is as much a matter of indifference to them as to 
their murmuring flocks. The instinct with which the bee 
finds his way back to the boat, floated perhaps miles away 
since his last excursion, would argue the possession of some 
extra sense. 

Sometimes, again, we met a boat crowded with slaves 
from Abyssinia and Darfur, on their way to the man- 
markets at Siout and Cairo : numbers, both boys and 
girls, are said to drown themselves on every passage, to 
avoid the brutality of their owners : once arrived at their 
place of destination and sold, however, their lot is happier, 
as I have before observed, or rather " less wretched" than 
that of the free Egyptian. While our boat passed by with 
song and music, as if its progress were all one festival, 
these poor exiled creatures would turn round to gaze after 
us, and grin till their faces seemed all teeth. 



90 



THE TURKISH AUTHORITIES. 



When we anchored for the night near a town, the 
Turkish governor generally came on board to visit us, 
accompanied by his janissary and pipe-bearer. We rose as 
he entered, and made room for him on the divan ; then 
he would lay his hand on his heart, and pray that peace 
might be upon us ; the pipe from our lips was then passed 
to his, of which he took one whiff ; then he returned it 
with a salute, and his own pipe was furnished by a sub- 
missive slave. There was little variety in the conversation : 
" English very good; very fond of travelling; know 
great deal ; have very good brandy." This last hint was 
always complied with, Mahmoud assuring the scrupulous 
Turk that it was made of roses, or of anything else, not 
spirituous, that occurred to him. Sometimes, the curtain 
of the cabin was to be drawn before he would taste the 
forbidden draught ; and sometimes he carried off the 
bottle bodily, u for a daughter or a friend who was sick/' 

There is no denying their taste for brandy, and their 
passion for maraschino ; but we invariably found these 
authorities extremely courteous, complimentary, andwilling 
to oblige us. 



CHAPTER X. 

THE NILE UP TO THE FIRST CATARACT. 

Emblem art thou of Time, memorial Stream ! 
Which in ten thousand fancies, being here, 
"We waste, or use, or fashion, as we deem ; 
But, if its backward voice comes ever near, 
As thine beside the ruins, how doth it seem 
Solemn and stern, sepulchral and severe ! 

Sir J. Haxmer. 

In a constant yet varying succession of such scenes, we 
advance hourly toward the south. Brighter suns, and 
starrier skies, and stranger scenery — wilder, lonelier — 
more silent — receive us : — sometimes we travel for hours 
and even days through the desert, where nothing but a 
narrow band of green, that feeds itself from the river 



A GREEK SLAVE-TRADER. 



91 



exhalations, is visible besides. Then we enter tracts of 
richly green meadows, flushed with flowers, or wide fields 
of the blossoming bean that fill the air with their delicious 
and delicate perfume. Here are gardens of cucumbers, 
fenced round with twigs and stalks of Indian corn ; there, 
fields of the Indian corn itself, a very forest of yellow 
grain; there, there are little farms of lupines, millet, and 
sweet pea; banks, gold-speckled with melons; and, haply, 
a crocodile or two basking beneath them on the sands, like 
dragons guarding the golden fruit of the Hesperides. 

All this produce and luxuriance is pumped out from 
the Nile, whose scattered waters are returned with rich 
usury from the grateful soil that has so unexpectedly 
received them, in shape of every green thing that the 
heart of (Egyptian) man or beast can desire. At intervals, 
all along the river, are to be seen little bowers, or sheds, 
like those that shelter the swans' nests upon the Thames, 
and under these the Arab and the buffalo are ceaselessly 
employed in irrigating the land. 

We passed an evening at Keneh, to collect some stores 
and write letters, before leaving the last African town 
that has any connection with the world of Europe. A 
Greek merchant from Sennaar, seeing lights in our cabin, 
came on board to claim the hospitality of pipes and coffee. 
He spoke Italian very fluently, and gave us an animated 
and interesting account of his desert journeys, and his 
trade, which lay in ivory, precious stones, gums, slaves, 
and other tropical luxuries. He inveighed, with all the 
energy of an English radical, against the unjust and im- 
politic restrictions laid by Mehemet Ali on the slave trade. 
"Would you believe it," he exclaimed in a tone of the 
most virtuous indignation, "the Pasha has levied a tax 
of five dollars on each slave imported into Egypt ! Why, 
sir, it amounts to a prohibition, and will be the ruin of the 
trade !" 

Most of our crew were very lax in their religious ob- 
servances, but some few were zealous in their devotion : 
we had been several days without touching land, and this 
evening Mohammed availed himself of being on terra 
firma at sunset. He had no carpet, poor fellow, to purify 
the ground, but he spread his capote, and knelt down with 



92 



THE NIGHT-BREEZE. 



an abstraction and apparent devotion that would have 
become a purer faith: his hands were clasped on his 
bosom, and at every utterance of the Holy Name, he 
pressed his forehead to the ground. All this time, an 
ugly negro, named Asgalani, who was a free-thinker and 
a wit, was amusing the crew by endeavouring to "put 
him out;" and this scoffer was greatly cheered by the rest 
of the crew, as he skipped about him, squeaking like a 
monkey, barking like a dog, crowing like a cock, grinning 
in his face, and inquiring "how he was off for a Prophet?" 
This did not for a moment disturb the gravity of the wor- 
shipper ; and, when he rose from his devotions, he went 
to his work with perfect good humour and disregard of the 
joker. 

Our impatience to proceed became greater every day? 
until we should reach Thebes, but the evening fell dead 
calm, and we lay moored to the bank at Keneh;* as the 
Arab sailors cannot or will nut tow the boat at night. 
About midnight I was awakened by a faint ripple against 
the bank ; then came a breeze, sighing through the rig- 
ging, which was immediately followed by poking Mah- 
moud on the ribs through the window. Up sprung that 
indefatigable dragoman. " Yallough I" shouted he, in a 
voice that made the crew spring from their dreams : 
"Yallough!" echoed they; the hawser was loosed, the 
sails were spread, and our little boat darted away over 
the star-spangled stream, tottering and bending under the 
pressure of the brisk breeze on her enormous sails. Soon 
the crew subsided into their respective holes; the men at 
the sheets affected some semblance of attention, but their 
sleep was only the more rigid; the faithful Bacheet, our 
pilot, alone watched through that night with me. 1 did 
not sleep, for some of the romance of youth came back 
upon my spirit, as we approached the mighty Thebes — 
unequalled amid all the world's wonders. 

The first faint streak of morning reveals the vast pro- 

* Keneh is the port of the Nile in connection with Cos-eir, on the 
Red Sea. The desert-way between the two is only seventy miles in 
length, and offers serious rivalry to Suez as a candidate for railway or 
canal to connect the Indian trade with that of Europe. This is also 
jne of the Mecca routes. 



LUXOR AND CARNAX. 



93 



pylrea of Carnak darkening over the bright horizon ; now 
daylight shines on the precipitous mountains, perforated 
with the tombs of the kings, and the sun's first ray 
awakens Memnon into sight, if no longer into sound : a 
cloud, rich as a prism with all the colours that ever glowed, 
hangs over the Arabian hills: and, when the sun shines 
over it, we are moored under the gigantic columns of 
Luxor, that fling their shadow over this Portsmouth of 
the Pharaohs. On these waters, the armaments of Sesos- 
tris once swarmed, and their anxious crews hurried, and 
strove, and thought that their present moment was the 
only critical point of all time. Now they lie mummied, 
monarch and minion; the manly bosoms that beat for 
glory, and the gentle hearts that beat for them alone — all 
lie now at peace, although the traveller from regions un- 
known to them may bear away their dusty effigies for 
northern eyes to stare at. 

One glimpse at Luxor, one gallop over the plain of 
Carnak, and away ! The wind is fair for the regions of 
the far south ; the Mountains of the Moon lie before us, 
and we must reach our goal, wherever it may be, before 
the terrible khampseen comes on — befure we pause to 
examine those marvellous revelations that have taken 
even our excited fancy by surprise — those marvels, the 
first of which is enough for a month's memory. 

A favouring breeze soon bore us out of sight of Thebes, 
and we soon passed the governor of Upper Egypt on the 
river: he was sitting under a canopy in a neat galley 
pulled by ten half-naked Arabs, an escort of four or five 
boats rilled with officers and soldiers attending him. 
Strange is the power of discipline! these very soldiers, 
a few months ago, were peasants, shuddering at the name 
of conscription, and ready to resist it to the death. 
They had been caught, however, and sent, as usual, in 
chains to Cairo: there, under the lash of the drill serjeaut, 
they had contracted such a taste for military service that 
they were now guarding the tyrant of their quondam 
friends, and enabling him to enforce the dreaded con- 
scription among their fellow-countrymen. 

We traversed a good deal of desert scenery, leaving 
Hermonthis on our right : and, towards evening of the 



94 



OPHTHALMIA. 



second day after leaving Thebes, reached Esneh, the most 
picturesque and amusing city on the Upper Nile. Leaving 
the interior to be explored on our return, we pressed 
onwards with a favouring wind. The next day, the 
mountains on both sides of the river ran down in very 
picturesque disorder to the waters edge, then suddenly 
ceased, and for many miles the country on either side was 
level as the Delta, and the eye ached in search of horizons 
which the clearness of the atmosphere rendered so in- 
definitely distant. 

This being an idle day among the crew, owing to the 
steady breeze that blew over the level country, some of 
the sailors recollected that they had the ophthalmia, and 
came to beg me to cure it. Every Englishman is supposed 
to possess unbounded medical skill, besides a knowledge 
of where lies all that buried treasure for which we so often 
risk our lives in tombs and desert places. 

Being determined to try my skill, I began with a fellow 
who had two eyes, knowing that, if I extinguished one 
it would be doing the proprietor a favour; (most of the 
party, as I have observed, possessing only one eye each — 
that is, our crew of twelve had only seventeen eyes among 
them). Into one of these seventeen, which was coated 
with a dull, gray film, I poured a solution of sulphate of 
zinc, that made him yell with agony; he ran dancing about 
the deck, amid the laughter of the crew, one of whom 
with great presence of mind, snatching up the reed-pipe, 
played an Egyptian jig, which redoubled the amusement 
of the by-sitters. 

Notwithstanding this demonstration of suffering, another 
ophthalmist lay down immediately on the deck, opening 
his solitary eye for the burning drop. I applied a weaker 
solution in his instance ; and this, as it gave the patient 
less pain, induced him to consider himself ill used. 

Every morning and evening, for a week, I had half a 
score of anxious eyes gazing through their films at my 
prentice hand, as it applied the magic drop. Strange to 
say, it cured them — and that effectually in most cases; 
and what is more remarkable, it did not blind any of 
them. 

Thenceforward, my practice became widely extended ; 



EPFOU AND SYENE. 



95 



not only was I applied to if any of the crew got a kick 
on his shins, or a bruise, however slight, on his fingers; 
but wherever the boat to ached the shore, the halt, and 
maimed, and blind, swarmed around me, and were only 
too happy to get a bit of sticking-plaster for a consump- 
tion, or a rhubarb pill for a broken limb. 

We passed Edfou in the night, and awoke to the view 
of scenery altogether differing from that which bad accom- 
panied us so long. A low line of hills had started up from 
the level land, here and there pinnacled by a ruined tower, 
a sole survivor and testimony of cities, nameless now 
even to the imaginative antiquary. These hills open into 
glens, once gardens, perhaps, or populous thoroughfares; 
but now the lonely Arab goatherd, or the wolf, is the only 
disturber of their silence. Not a village is in sight, but 
a belt of the richest vegetation borders the river ; waving 
corn, some green, some golden ; lupines in flower, beans, 
and other fragrant blossoms. This is bordered by a line 
of rushes, and then the desert spreads abroad its inter- 
minable tracts of low sandy undulations. 

We are now approaching the utmost boundary of ancient 
Egypt, beyond which lay ^Ethiopia, where Jupiter used 
to dine once a year, in a quiet way, with the religious 
fashionables of that respectable nation. 

As we approach the ancient Syene, the hills grow 
loftier and darker. Palm groves again ornament the 
valleys, enormous masses of granite shoot up from the 
river, a pretty villa appears on the left, a ruined castle on 
the right, and we come into sight of the most romantic 
spot of Egypt, which seems, like an artful tragedy, to 
keep its best scene for its last. 

Assouan, called in Coptic Souan, which means "an 
opening," stands at the entrance of the Valley of the Xile. 
Here the river, narrowed into a rocky channel, displays a 
sportiveness and activity elsewhere unknown to it, except 
among the cataracts. The island of Elephantina, very 
rich in broken ruins, divides the river opposite the town ; 
shaded with palm-trees, and carpeted with gay weeds, it 
seems still to lay claim to its ancient epithet of the 
" Isle of Flowers." A grove of palms stands between the 
modern town and the river; and above and beyond tuid 



£6 



Assouan; 



grove tower dark-red granite elirrs. crowned with ruins, 
tea: give it a very picturesque appearance. Beyond this 
lie trace? of the a::<:irnt Syen*e : and. among the rocky 
eminences, the track of wheels still point out where ran 
the ancient streets. The denunciation of Ezekiel is in . . 1 
fulfilled — " the tower of Syene ha^ fallen from her pride 




ASSOUAN . 



of power and nothing can be imagined more utterly 
lonely than this deserted city. Not a sound was to be 
heard, except the roar of the cataract and < in faint con- 
trast) the twitter of the solitary sparrow.* 

Many Curie inscriptions ami some hieroglyphics are 
visible on these rock ruins : and in the quarries the mark 
of the chisel is as fresh as if the workmen were at dinner 
round the corner there, whilst a huge obelisk stands out 
from its quarry ready fur removal. There is a cemetery 
too. in the neighbourhood, which seems less lone'y in its 
silence than the city to whose millions it once afforded 
their only real rest : and. that nothing mLdit be wanted to 
the desolation of the scene, a vaguely- wailing wind came 

* Ornithologists assert that this hermit-bird is only to be found 
at Rome, AgrU'entum. and some other place; but if the only creature 
of his kind found in a place like this does not bear that name, he 

deserves it. 



^ETHIOPIA. 



97 



over the desert as we watched the sun go down, and 
seemed full at once of foreboding and of mournful 
memories. 

Immediately on our landing, a crowd came down from 
the village to sell their little commodities, or to stare at 
the white strangers. Darker, but more regular features, 
and smooth, shining hair, bespoke a change of population. 
These are, for the most part, Nubians; but there is a con- 
siderable mixture of the Saracenic and Bosniak blood, left 
here in garrison, three hundred and thirty years ago, by 
Sultan Selim. 

A slave-caravan had just arrived from the interior; 
and we found numerous groups of slaves, apparently un- 
guarded, strewn about among the palm-groves. Some of 
the old women were making bread of millet-flour on a 
smooth stone, but the greater part were either sleeping, 
or chatting under the shadow of their familiar palm. 

We had now traversed Egypt in all its length (which 
includes its breadth), and had left only sufficient objects 
of interest unexplored to occupy the pauses in our home- 
ward way. Standing on the borders of old Cush and 
^Ethiopia, we now looked forward to penetrating the wilds 
of Africa, and prepared to plunge into the interior with 
as fresh a hope as when we entered Egypt: we then 
looked forward to reaching Dongola, or Sennaar, and, if 
possible, to penetrating into Abyssinia. 

Apart from that difficulty which, in all cases, from 
women to new worlds, stimulates a sanguine spirit, there 
is something peculiarly inviting to adventure and interest 
in the character of Central Africa. The magnificence of 
tropical scenery, enhanced by its deep loneliness — the 
fierce character of its few inhabitants contrasted with the 
simplicity of their lives; their primitive virtues, and their 
furious passions; their vehement faith in religion, whether 
it be the distorted form of Christianity that we find some 
following, or the dark superstitions by which others are 
enslaved; the magic, the spells, the incantations, and the 
fetish. 

It was not our fate to accomplish this design of reaching 
Abyssinia, as our voyage fornd its limit at the Second 

K 



MEROE. 



Cataract : so I shall merely glance at those regions in 
imagination, and endeavour to convev some idea of the 
little that is known concerning them : then return to our 
Nubian voyage, and resign my claim on the reader's 
patience, until we reach the more stirring and interesting 
land of Syria. 

The name of Africa is borrowed from a Punic word, 
which signifies "corn." and was applied by the Romans 
to those northern districts, now Tripoli and Tunis, which 
constituted their granary. Lybia seems borrowed from leb, 
in the Hebrew language " heat." and designated the region 
lying between the Great Syrtis and Egypt. JEthiopia 
appears to have been a vague term, applied to all the 
countries north of Assouan, within which, with the trifling 
exceptions of some brief military incursions, the Greek and 
Roman sway was limited. This wide region received its 
name from the colour of its inhabitants, and means "'the 
land of the sunburnt countenances." 

The capital of the country was Meroe. or Napata. where 
Candace reigned: this last was the chief city of Lower 
^Ethiopia, and was Supposed to be identical with the 
modern Gib el el Birkel : but Mr. Hoskins places it one 
hundred miles lower down, at Old Dongolah.* This ques- 
tion is of comparatively little interest to the general 
reader : but the secluded and mysterious island of Meroe, 
with its magnificent necropolis of pyramids, must interest 
every thought that allows itself to wander into these 
regions or these subjects. 

The island of Meroe is formed by the junction of the 
river Astaboras with the Nile, about five hundred and 
sixty miles beyond Assouan, between the fifth and sixth 
cataracts. The capital of the same name is now only 
discoverable by its cemetery, whose pyramids far exceed 
those of Egypt in number and architecture, though inferior 
in size. Mr. Hoskins describes a vast plain crowded with 
these wonderful edifices, of which he counted eight dif- 
ferent groups, one of them containing twenty-five, one 
twenty-three, and one thirteen pyramids ! Each pyramid 
has a portico, invariably facing towards the east : and the 
general finish and elaborate detail of execution bear testi- 
* ^Ethiopia, p. 0/. 



PAST AND PRESENT RELIGION. 



99 



roony to their architects having possessed a high degree uf 
art. 

Isis 3 Osiris, Horus, and Thotb, figure on the sculptures 
in bas-relief in the porticoes, and are represented as accu- 
rately, though with inferior skill, as those of Thebes. 
Here then, most probably, is the cradle of the arts, which, 
advancing through Egypt, at length stood triumphant on 
the Acropolis of Athens. The ancient capital to which 
this necropolis was attached, lies, in the shape of stone 
fragments and burnt bricks, strewn about the plain, pros- 
trate as at Memphis. 

Mention of this empire, remote as it is. recurs from time 
to time in the earliest records of the Scriptures ; and its 
monuments bear their own annals, which date back to the 
most remote antiquity. For the latter, the reader must 
consult Mr. Hoskins's valuable work on .Ethiopia; and. 
with respect to the former, I shall only allude to Shishak's 
expedition, assisted by the ^Ethiopians, against Jerusalem, 
in 971 B.C. ;* that of Zerah, in 955 b.c. ;t that of Tir- 
liaka.J in 750 B.C.; and to the mention in Acts vi. S3, of 
Candace's eunuch. 

This last event is of considerable importance in a his- 
torical point of view, as it involves the practice of 
pilgrimage to Jerusalem in those days, the knowledge of 
the Scriptures in that remote country, and the study ot 
the Greek language, which had been introduced long 
before into Ethiopia by an enlightened king named 
Ergamenes. 

YThether any tradition of the true God lingered until 
later days, it would be hard to say; but certain it is that 
Xubia universally received the Christian faith in the fourth 
century, and adhered to it until the twelfth. Then the 
climate proved too strong, or their faith too weak, and 
their religion too corrupt, to withstand Mahometanism : 
the Nubians adopted Islamism to a man. and it is now 
their boast that not a Christian inhabitant exists between 
the Cataracts. 

Beyond this countrv, the slave-hnnters have a theory 
that there dwells a race of pagans and cannibals ; this, 

* 2 Chronicles xii. 2, 3. t Chap. xiv. 8-11. 

£ 2 Kings xviii. 

H 2 



100 



ABYSSINIA. 



however, may be merely a pretext to cover their atrocious 
pursuits j and certain it is that, though the Crescent now 
holds sway over the lower countries, the Cross resumes its 
power beyond, in Abyssinia. Here the faith which St. 
Mark preached in Alexandria was transplanted under the 
form of the Eutychian heresy, and here, with the exception 
of a brief Roman Catholic interlude, it has maintained its 
ground ever since. 

They seemed to have profited little, however, in a spirit- 
ual point of view, by this deliverance. The light of Chris- 
tianity glimmers very faintly at present through the gloom 
of superstitions which have the shadows of African idol- 
atry added to their own. St. Michael is appealed to as an 
intercessor, and the Virgin Mary is deified, almost to the 
exclusion of the Son. Confession is insisted on as indis- 
pensable to eternal life, and those who die unshrived are 
refused burial: the fee for confession is considerable, which 
may throw some light on this portion of the doctrine. 
Kissing the hand of a priest purifies from sin, and a pil- 
grimage to Jerusalem insures paradise to the pilgrim. The 
king of Thou, Sehela Selasse, regards himself as the lineal 
descendant of Solomon by the Queen of Sheba; he calls 
himself " King of Israel," and bears upon his banners that 
inscription, " The Lion of the tribe of Judah hath pre- 
vailed." The Abyssinians observe the Jewish sabbath, 
circumcision, and many other rites of that people, whose 
cause they deem themselves destined to espouse, and 
believe that they shall one day rise en masse to deliver 
Palestine from the Infidel. 

The Egyptians, proud of these converts of their faith 
(whose patriarch, or rather metropolitan, they appoint), 
used to exaggerate the power and resources of Abyssinia 
and its emperor; asserting that he could bring 100.000 
men into the field, that he could withhold and give forth 
the waters of the Nile, and that he possessed unbounded 
command of gold. Modern discoveries, however, and Major 
Harris's recent visit, reveal to us a people as savage, in 
almost every respect, as the nations that surround them. 

There appears to be a wild caprice among the institu- 
tions, if such they may be called, of all these tropical 
nations. In a neighbouring state to that of Abyssinia, the 



THE TIGER-KING. 



301 



king, when appointed to the regal dignity, retires into an 
island, and is never again visible to the eyes of men but 
once — when his ministers come to strangle him; for it 
may not be that the proud monarch of Behr should die a 
natural death. No men, with this fatal exception, are 
ever allowed even to set foot upon the island, which is 
guarded by a band of Amazons. 

In another border country, called Habeesh, the monarch 
is dignified with the title of " Tiger." He was formerly 
Melek of Shendy, when it was invaded by Ismael Pasha, 
and was even then designated by this fierce cognomen. 
Ismael, Mehemet Ali's second son, advanced through Nubia, 
claiming tribute, and submission from all the tribes. Nem- 
mir (which signifies Tiger), the King of Shendy, received 
him hospitably, as Mahmoud, our dragoman, informed us, 
and, when he was seated in his tent, waited on him to 
learn his pleasure. " My pleasure is," replied the invader, 
" that you forthwith furnish me with slaves, cattle, and 
money, to the value of 100,000 dollars."— " Pooh !" said 
Nemmir, "you jest; all my country could not produce 
what you require in one hundred moons :" — the young 
Pasha, indignant at the tone or purport of the reply, struck 
the Tiger across the face with his pipe; — had he done so 
to his namesake of the jungle, the insult could not have 
roused fiercer feelings of revenge ; but the human animal 
did not show his wrath at once. " It is well," he replied ; 
" let the Pasha rest : to-morrow he shall have nothing more 
to ash." The Egyptian, and the few Mameluke officers of 
his staff, were tranquilly smoking towards evening, enter- 
tained by some dancing-girls whom the Tiger had sent to 
amuse them, when they observed that a huge pile of dried 
stalks of Indian corn was rising rapidly round the tent. 
u What means this?" inquired Ismael, angrily; "am not 
I Pasha T — " It is but forage for your highness's horses," 
replied the Nubian, "for, were your troops once arrived, 
the people would fear to approach the camp." Suddenly, 
the space is filled with smoke, the tent curtains shrivel up 
in flames, and the Pasha and his comrades find themselves 
encircled in what they well know is their funeral pyre. 
Vainly the invader implores mercy, and assures the Tiger 
of his warm regard for him and all his family ; vainly he 



102 



MAGNIFICENT RUINS. 



endeavours to break through the fiery fence that girds him 
round; a thousand spears bore him back into the flames, 
and the Tiger's triumphant yell and bitter mockery mingled 
with his dying screams. 

The Egyptians perished to a man. Neminir, crowned 
with savage glory, escaped up the country, aud married 
the daughter of a king, who soon left him his successor, 
and the Tiger still defies the old Pasha's power. The 
latter, however, took a terrible revenge upon his people : 
he burnt all the inhabitants of the village nearest to the 
scene of his son's slaughter, and cut off the right hands of 
five hundred men besides. So much for Abyssinian war. 

Its trade down the Nile is very trifling; the principal 
exports are indigo, ivory, hides, and slaves. 

The Pasha has garrisons at Shendy, Dongola, Sennaar, 
and Khartoun, in Nubia. The latter owes its creation 
to his army. It is modern, of course, well built, and beau- 
tifully situated at the confluence of the Blue and White 
Rivers. A Greek merchant, who had been physician to 
the forces there, told me the Blue River was by far the 
most rapid, and also contained the sweetest water; which 
renders it probable that it retains purity and momentum 
from a mountain descent, which the White River is un- 
conscious of. 

Besides Meroe, there are magnificent ruins, and some 
pyramids at El Birkel, Solib, and Semneh, within twenty 
days' journey from Assouan. 

After these slight prospective and retrospective digres- 
sions, I return to my tour. 



THE TROPICS. 



CHAPTER XL 

THE CATARACT AND PHILCE. 

Syene's rocks are far behind, 

And thy green banks, sweet Isle of Flowers ; 
And thine, Shehayl ! whose children's laugh 

Rings merrily through the date-tree bowers, 
That erst, mysterious rites concealing, 
O'ershadowed silent Pharaoh's kneeling. 

Lord Lindsay. 

There ! flames forth the sunshine of the Tropics, flashing 
over the roseate granite cliffs, and the dew-diamonded 
palms, and the silvery river: the very desert smiles be- 
neath that magical morning power, and all who have 
survived the night come forth rejoicing, from hovel and 
from palace, as if life w r ere indeed a blessing, as well as 
a probation. The indefatigable Mahmoud has already 
unloaded the boat, preparatory to the ascent of the cata- 
ract; and by his provident arrangement a file of camels 
is moving down the narrow pathway, to transport the 
cargo to Philoe, across the desert. Now the tent disap- 
pears, and leaves as little trace as the palaces that once 
occupied its site. Trunks, boxes, hen-coops, frying-pans, 
powder-magazines, and tables, are piled upon the kneeling 
camels. They growl a little to express those savage but 
servile feelings that pass for meekness and resignation in 
the eyes of the world, owing to their hypocritically re- 
signed expression of countenance. Now, the black driver 
gives an angry shriek at them, which means, " Get up, 
you brute;" and there they go, majestically towering 
along, as if they were doing it all for show; while cocks 
are crowing on the top of them from the hencoops, and 
Abdallah is grinning his teeth out ; as he bestrides my 
saddle, surmounting a pile of kettles and coffee-pots. 

The Rais of the Cataract and the other river autho- 
rities did not make their appearance till towards noon. A 
report had reached the Pasha's ears that the poor people, 
who dwell among these rocks, had discovered some means 



104 



THE RIVER CHIEFS. 



to avert starvation by catching fish in weirs of the rudest 
kind, built among the rapids. Mehemet Ali, by return 
of post (which fortunately for the fishermen occupied six 
weeks), transmitted an order to tax these little fisheries ; 
and the river-chiefs were at this moment occupied in an 
interview with the tax-gatherer. 




THE SHEIKH, RAIS, AND PILOT OF THE CATARACT. 



At length they arrived ; three tall, spare, elderly men, 
with long beards and large turbans, and such cumbrous 
drapery that exertion seemed impossible to them. They 
squatted round us on the deck, and were followed by 
crowds of their acquaintance, who listened to the bargain, 
and did not scruple to express their sentiments of satis- 
faction, or otherwise, on anything that was said. The 
bargaining was carried on with vehement voices, amount- 
ing at important passages to screams, and the most violent 
gesticulation : we, of course, held our peace; and Mahmoud 
and the chiefs, after an hour's debate, came to agreement 
on a price which each was perfectly well aware of from 
the beginning. This amounted to the imposing sum of 
21. 10s., in consideration of which we and our ship were 



THE HIPPOPOTAMUS. 



105 



to be dragged up the cataracts, and let safely down tlieni 
on our return. 

The wind was fair and strong. A new pilot, whom 
we were obliged to engage for the upper river, here took 
the place of our faithful Bacheet, as good a man in his 
way, black or Briton, as ever held a tiller. Our recruit 
called himself "The Hippopotamus," and a more grim, 
forbidding-looking negro I never beheld. His face was 
deeply marked with the smallpox, and frightfully seamed, 
moreover, with the explosion of gunpowder ; he was about 
six feet and a half high, and his lean black limbs looked 
like those of a skeleton in mourning. Now, the moorings 
are loosed, the sails spread to the northern breeze, Egypt 
recedes, and we glide into ^Ethiopia ! 

Colossal masses of granite, detached from the dark red 
cliffs that tower over us, lie strewn along the banks, and 
in the river. On our right, Elephantina nods all its palm- 
trees in farewell; on the left, the deserted city, with its 
rugged ruins topping the jagged cliffs ; and soon the dis- 
tance blended into one the vast distorted masses that lay 
darkly relieved against the pale blue sky. 

Our voyage for the next hour was very exciting and 
picturesque; the river, narrowed between the dark crags, 
here and there boiled into milk-white foam : sometimes a 
pyramid of nature-piled rocks towered from the desert 
plain ; and between it and the barren hills, would for a 
moment smile some spot of vivid verdure, shadowed by 
acacias, or a palm-tree ; sometimes the sandy valleys were 
of deep yellow contrasted with the gloomy rocks whose 
shadow they received like water; sometimes these sandy 
tracts were silvery white, giving the impression of a snowy 
tract by moonlight. Soon we shot past the beautiful little 
island of Shehayl, and entered upon more troubled waters. 

The breeze was fair and fresh, and our bark breasted 
the torrent gallantly, flinging the foam from her bows on 
the black rooks as she struggled past ; at the foot of the 
second rapid there was a space of calm water over which 
she rushed as if to charge the fall, but it was too strong 
for her: for a moment she recoiled, then fairly went about 
and seemed driving furiously and inevitably against an 
impending cliff, at whose base the waters weltered fear- 



CONTRASTS IN 



SCENERY. 



fully. One of the chiefs of the cataract had, until no"w } 
been seated on the deck, tranquilly, but watching with £ 
vivid eye every motion of the admirably steered boat. 
Now came Ms time. In a moment more we should have 
been a wreck against that rugged rock, when suddenly 
he started to his feet; his cumbrous-looking drapery fell 
from around him like a veil : one instant, an infirm old 
man seemed cowering at our feet ; the next, a stalwart, 
sinewy form rose like magic from his place : one moment 
he stood motionless at the bow, then plunged fearlessly 
into the torrent, emerged upon the threatening rock, 
and received upon his naked shoulder a blow that might 
have felled a palm-tree : the very boat reeled from her 
collision with that iron man, who turned her aside with 
dexterous strength, and then she floated round into a 
quiet bay and was at rest. The hero of a moment ago 
again looked like a bale of blue-and-white cotton lumber- 
ing the deck, except that he resumed his unextinguished 
pipe.^ 

This was our first day's work. Leaving our boat sf: 
the foot of the cataracts, we proceeded overland to Philoe, 
where our encampment awaited us. It was only about 
two miles distant, yet never in my life have I seen 
scenery so wildly strange as that through which we passed. 
The general effect was one of awful grandeur and sternest 
solitude; yet, among those menacing cliffs that tower over 
and around us in the most distorted forms, lay spots of the 
softest beauty and richest verdure. These increased as we 
proceeded; and we entered a village of pretty cottages, 
v> i ershadowed by palm-trees, that gave us the most agree- 
able surprise: they were as different from the squalid 
dwellings of Egypt as were their modest, yet unveiled 
women, from those of the Fellaheen. 

Old women were sitting in the shade, occupied with 
some quiet labour; girls were employed amongst the en- 
closures; little children ran about us, with merry faces 
and laughing voices, begging us to buy their pebbles, or 
flowers, or bright green locusts. Some of the attitudes 
into which these little urchins threw themselves were very 
amusing ; the boys, with one little foot advanced, and one 
hand upon the hip, looked about them haughtily and 



PHILCE. 



107 



erect: the girls, with a timid air that struggled with their 
merry eyes, wore an appearance of unconscious modesty 
that veiled their nakedness better than all the silks of 
Hindostan. 

Then we came to Birbe, a sort of river-port for the 
Upper Nile, and, passing through a gorge in the rocky 
mountain, came suddenly and unexpectedly in view of 
Philce ! the most unearthly, strange, wild, beautiful spot 
I ever beheld. No dreamer of the mystical old times, 
when beauty, knowledge, and power were realized on 
earth, ever pictured to himself a scene of wilder grandeur 
and more perfect loveliness. All that I had read, or heard, 
or imagined of this wondrous scene, had left me unpre- 
pared for such a realization ; and, if I add my own vain 
efforts at description to those that have preceded me, it 
is not in any hope of conveying a true impression to the 
reader. All round us towered up vast masses of gloomy 
rocks, piled one upon the other in the wildest confusion; 
some of them, as it were, skeletons of pyramids; others 
requiring only a few strokes of giant labour to form 
colossal statues that might have startled the Anakim. 
Here spreads a deep drift of silvery sand, fringed by rich 
verdure and purple blossoms; there a grove of palms, in- 
termingled with the flowering acacia ; and then, through 
vistas of craggy cliffs and plumy foliage, gleams a calm 
blue lake ; with the Sacred Island in the midst, green to 
the water's edge, except where the walls of the old temple- 
city are reflected. Above those shrub-tangled and pillared 
banks were tall pyramids; columns airy, yet massive in 
their proportion ; palms, and towers, and terraces. Beyond 
the island, the lake glimmers through the ruins, and the 
whole scene of peace and beauty is embosomed in a valley 
frowned over by a girdle of rugged mountains, all scathed, 
and dark, and desolate : withal, there was an air of repose, 
of awe, and perfect calm over the whole region round, 
that suited well with its character and with the solemn 
purposes to which it was once consecrated. 

Our tent had been pitched upon the shores of the lake; 
the fire was blazing, the carpets were spread, and in a few 
minutes we were seated as tranquilly " at gaze " on the 
mystic island, as if we had been at home. 



108 



ANGRY DISCUSSION. 



I wandered along the river for hours, by the light of 
a glorious moon, that shone as brightly over that island as 
when a thousand worshippers thronged those fanes to keep 
her festival : and then we read Isaiah's denunciations; and 
Ezekiel's prophecies found a voice, as they did a realiza- 
tion, among the desolations they had foretold. 

Sunrise, the next morning, found us tramping through 
the heavy sands, to return to our boat, which we had left 
below the Cataract. The strangely-tossed rocks bore some 
faint resemblance to those of Glengariff, in Ireland, but 
were all the colour of dried blood. Even at this early 
hour, the sun was intensely hot, and the rocks scorched 
our soles through thick shoes, yet little children were 
running about with bare feet. 

We had time to smoke our pipes on board, and refresh 
ourselves with coffee, before the Rais of the Cataract made 
his appearance, accompanied by about fifty followers, all 
naked but for a napkin round their waists ; fine, athletic, 
intelligent-looking fellows they were; though dark as mid- 
night, except where their white cinctures and turbans re- 
lieved the gloom: they all carried heavy clubs, however, 
which appeared to us an unnecessary part of their equip- 
ment, besides the knife, which every Nubian wears in a 
sheath strapped round his left arm, for want of a girdle, 
or any article of dress to stick it in. 

An animated and angry discussion immediately ensued 
between the leaders and Mahmoud, while the rest, leaning 
upon their clubs, looked calmly on; now gazing pensively 
at the strange boat, now glancing inquiringly towards a 
gorge in the opposite end of the valley from that by 
which we had arrived. The cause of all this soon ap- 
peared : the Sheikh of a rival village arrived, attended by 
numerous followers also armed with clubs, and a stormy 
debate began between the contending parties, as to who 
was to have the dragg*ng of us up the cataract. 

Matters began to look serious ; the women and children 
disappeared, reinforcements continued to pour in to both 
parties, and the controversy waxed fiercer than ever. At 
length, Mahmoud, who had been gesticulating and shouting 
more than any of them, swore in a solemn voice, by the 
Prophet's beard, that he would go to the governor, and left 



THE CATARACT. 



109 



the boat apparently for the purpose. Now, this governor 
was a decrepid old Turk, who might perhaps have half a 
company of half-starved Egyptian conscripts for his garri- 
son ; but, at the sound of his awful name, there was sud- 
denly a great calm among that stormy crowd, consisting of 
some two or three hundred athletic savages. " By Allah, 
no !" was heard from a dozen voices, and suddenly the 
black rocks and the white sands seemed to swallow our 
invaders. It appeared that these poor people were almost 
starved, the Pasha having wrung their last para, and almost 
their last date from them, and they had come to endeavour 
to obtain some of our purchase-money. This money, divi- 
ded among the hundred who were to be thus employed, 
would leave only about three-pence for each man for each 
day's labour, even if the chiefs did not appropriate the lion's 
portion; for this pittance they strove as for an independ- 
ence. 

We now made sail to the northerly breeze, which fortu- 
nately is almost always blowing, and conveys to the burning 
tropics the coolness that our part of the world can spare so 
well. We had smooth water for some time, and the deck 
was crowded with our new subsidiaries, while the three 
chiefs sat close to our divan, and one of them in particular 
was shouting like the chorus of a brass band. T requested 
he would keep silence, and, in my ignorance of Arabic, 
applied to him a term which meant something like "Hold 
your jaw." He was silent, as if thunderstruck; then looked 
at me for a moment fixedly, and pointed to his grey beard. 
I did not know how I had affronted him, but I felt I had 
done so, and I also felt the force of his appeal. I made a 
gesticulation of respect, and used some expression of 
apology, which he accepted with rather a lofty air, and 
said it was "taib," (very well). 

In such interchange of civilities we arrived at the first 
rush of water that is called a cataract, and made fast to 
the rocks while preparations for the ascent were in pro- 
gress. The scene was now very striking; enormous masses 
of dark rocks were hanging over, or lying round us in 
every direction; the foaming river roared and writhed 
through every fissure and ravine; innumerable dark, 
demonlike figures, like those in Der Frieschutz, flitted 



110 



ASCENT CF THE CATARACT. 



about us in every direction, among the rocks, upon the 
sands, upon the very deck; now they plunge into the water, 
or shoot across the rapids on a log of wood; now a dozen 
woolly heads start up under our stern, shouting for "back- 
sheesh." Perfectly naked and amphibious, they seemed to 
have as little choice of element as so m&ny seals; and what 
with their shouting, and splashing, and ubiquity, and 
vanishing, added to the thunders of the cataract which the 
echoes multiplied, and the bewilderment of the strange 
scene, and all its savages, it became almost impossible to 
resist joining the universal devilment that seemed going 
on all round. 

At length, we proceeded to business. The chiefs had 
now ascended the rocks, and stood, with their long blue 
and white robes floating in the wind, giving directions to 
the eager and fluctuating crowd that swarmed around, and 
above, and below them. Now an English rope, kept for 
this purpose, was made fast to the mainmast; and about a 
hundred Nubians, some on the rocks, some in the stream, 
laying hold, we were dragged up the hill of water that 
formed fiercely round our boat, and deluged her with its 
spray. " Yallough ! Wallah !" we are on the very ridge 
where the waters seem heaped up ere they plunge below, 
and our boat trembles like a pennon in the wind. " Yal- 
lough ! Wallah !" once more, and we are over it. After a 
short rest, we moved on over a quiet space of water to the 
third and greatest fall, where the whole body of the Nile 
precipitates itself from between two towering cliffs, foam- 
ing and plashing, and, in short, cataracting very respect- 
ably. 

Now every arm is nerved, and every eye is riveted on 
the Rais of the Cataracts, who stands on a pinnacle of the 
rock, waving his staff like the wand of an Enchanter who 
had invoked all that unearthly-looking crew to his assist - 
ance. He waited a moment for the wind, which now 
came rustling up the river, swaying his white beard and 
floating robes as it filled our straining sails. Then, over 
the roar of the torrent and the shouting of a thousand 
men, his voice was heard — " Yallough P he cried, and 
made a gesture as if he were going to do it all himself. 
The cry was answered by the dark crowd in a chorus of 



KING OF PRILCE. 



Ill 



M Hayiee sah P* as they laid their brawny shoulders to 
the rope, and made a rush forward. In we plunged, half- 
buried in the cataract, but soon felt ourselves slowly 
ascending its steep, though every sight and sound were 
overwhelmed by the rush of waters that foamed and 
sparkled over and thundered round us. One minute — 
and another — of convulsive struggle and strained suspense, 
and there ! — we are past the dreaded cataract, and floating 
calmly on the river, which is now smooth for two hundred 
miles. 

We paused a little while to take in the crew, and get 
out the water; and then, with swelling sails, we glided 
through the portal of gloomy rocks that shuts in ^Ethiopia 
from the world. When we emerged from its shadows, the 
lovely lake and temple-crowned island of Philce opened on 
our view. We anchored under a grove of palm-trees close 
to our encampment; and, leaving the servants and the 
crew to replace the cargo, we embarked in a sort of 
wooden tray for the island. Our guide and ferryman was 
Abou Zeb, a very handsome and intelligent lad of about 
sixteen, who is called the King of Philoe. This title is 
accompanied with no idea of derision, but bestowed by the 
simple people round with as much regard for his prero- 
gative as if it were backed by the power of the Pharaohs. 
We were glad to find that his sable Majesty had no 
residence, nor permitted any, on the Sacred Island : 
though, soon after we landed, some girls swam over with 
coins, and beads, and other little commodities lor sale. 
As they emerged from the lake, they merely wrung the 
water from their long black hair; the sun, and their soft, 
smooth skins soon evaporating the drops that lingered 
on their undulating forms. These girls wore no dress, 
except a narrow girdle of tasselled leather round their 
loins; and one or two had a slight veil, which hung from 
her head over the shoulders; this she wreathed into a 
most becoming turban before plunging into the water. 
Notwithstanding the simplicity (to say the least of it) of 
this attire, these Nubian maidens wore a natural and 
graceful modesty, that invested it only with associations 
of primitive purity and Eve-like innocence. 

* God help ! 



}}? GIGANTIC SCULPTURES AND PAINTINGS. 



We landed at the small door, a sort of sallyport : and, 
ascending a dark and narrow staircase, found ourselves in 
front of a gigantic pyramidal portal, covered with hiero- 
glyphics of colossal dimensions. This opened into a mag- 
nificent court of the Great Temple, on each side of which 
was ranged a noble facade of lofty columns, nearly perfect. 
The capitals of each were of a different pattern, but all 
beautifully worked ; and, when the varied and vivid 
painting (with which each stony boss and blossom of the 
chapitres, as well as each column's shaft, was once en- 
riched) was entire, the effect of the whole must have been 
very gorgeous, however irreconcilable to our present taste. 
We passed from this court into a lesser one, whose lofty 
walls seemed to narrow upward towards the sky. This 
gloom, contrasted with the intense sunshine from which 
we passed, produced a striking effect, as we found our- 
selves surrounded by gigantic sculptures, whose mystic 
forms we could scarcely trace; thence into an adytum, 
covered with a ponderous roof, supported by enormous 
columns, encrusted with hieroglyphics. On some of these, 
the painting was very vivid. It would be vain to attempt 
to convey any impression by mere words of this wondrous 
labyrinth through which we wandered from darkened 
tombs to lofty terraces : from haunted chambers to wide 
courts, where Belshazzar and all his nobles might have 
feasted. Everywhere we found new subjects of interest, 
and each spot that we explored appeared to be the marvel 
of the whole. Imagine walls, whose height it wearies the 
eye to measure, all covered with gigantic hieroglyphics, 
where gods and warriors seem to move self-supported 
between earth and sky; then, groves of columns, whose 
girth and height would rival those of the most corpulent 
old oak trees, with capitals luxuriant as a cauliflower, and 
gleaming with bright enamel of every hue in heaven : 
every pillar and every wall so thickly covered with 
hieroglyphics, that they seem clothed with a petrified 
tapestry. 

And then, from the terraces that extend over this assem- 
blage of temples, what a view presents itself ! Beneath, 
lies that verdant and flowery islet, strewn with marble 
wrought into every beautiful form known to ancient art ; 



ASSEMBLAGE OF TEMPLES 



over that pile of prostrate pillars, a grove of palms is 
waving j; from between the columns of yon small temple 
the acacia's foliage seems to gusli, and its blossom stream. 
Round all the island flows the clear, bright river; and 
opposite, lies the old Temple of Osiris, row called Pharaoh's 
Bed. Beyond the river are gleams of green, shooting 
across drifts of desert sands, palms, rocks, villages, and 




ISLAND OF PHILCE. 



wastes ; and over all, darkly encircling this paradise, rises 
the rugged chain of the Hemaceuta, or Golden Mountains. 

Apart from the Great Temple (or accumulation of tem- 
ples, as it seems to be), there is a very beautiful lesser 
one, nearly perfect. Its dedication is uncertain ; but 
localities like these acquire little interest from names of 
gods or demons once worshipped witbin their walls. The 
island at large was consecrated to the great triad, Osiris, 
Isis, and Horus; but it is somewhat disappointing to find 
that none of its edifices arose until comparatively yester- 
day — two thousand years ago. 

The whole island is not above fifty acres in size, but it 
is richer perhaps in objects of interest than any spot of 

I 



114 



KUP.IA. 



similar extent in the world. Here the student might 
live for years, finding each day some new source of in- 
terest, yet the antiquities of the island unexhausted until 
he became one himself. 



CHAPTER XII. 
NUBIA. 

Where rippling wave, and dashing oar. 

That midnight chant attend ; 
Or whispering palm-leaves, from the shore., 

With midnight silence blend. 

Keble. 

Light was her form, and darkly delicate 
That brow, whereon her native sun had sate, 
But had not marred. 

Byron. 

The evening breeze found us ready to start with its first 
breath for Wady Haifa ; and as our boat shot away from 
beautiful Philoe, the dark precipitous cliffs closed gradually 
round us, and the Sacred Island remained but as a vision. 
If the days of hermitage were ever to return, the Solitary 
could find no place on earth like this, wherein to cultivate 
self-discipline, or study uninterruptedly, and, whilst pre- 
paring for his translation to another world, to commu- 
nicate his own high hope of immortality to the gentle and 
intelligent savages that surrounded him. 

Nubia differs very widely in the character of its scenery 
from the land we have just left. It is true, we had still 
the palm, the river, and the desert, like those we left 
behind us, but there are no more forests ; the cliffs, dark 
red, assume wilder forms, and approach nearer to the 
river ; the stream itself is narrower and more rapid ; the 
line of vegetation is more limited, but brighter, and the 
desert appears more frequently. The inhabitants, also, 
exhibit a striking change, becoming more savage as their 
ecenery becomes wilder, and darker in complexion as 



NUBIAN DRESS. 



115 



fte sun increases in intensity. They are a very mixed 
race, even between the Cataracts; and the people bor- 
dering on Egypt speak one dialect called Kenooz, while 
those above Kalabshe speak another, called Kenzee. 
There are, moreover, several distinct tribes, such as the 
Ababde, the Moggrebyns, and the Bisharein, who have 
each their settlements, dialects, and peculiar customs. 

Generally speaking, the men have laid aside the turban, 
and rely upon the covering w T hich nature has supplied, in 
the shape of profuse and thickly-matted hair, falling down 
on either side of the face, and plentifully impregnated 
with castor-oil. Few of the young men wear any covering 
but a napkin round their loins, and none of the virgins 
Siave any garments, except the leather girdle T have before 
alluded to, and a blue or white scarf, which hangs down 
from the back of their heads. The matrons wear a single 
garment, consisting of a long and very loose blue robe ; 
and the old men use turbans, and voluminous cotton robes, 
like those of Egypt. Every man we meet with now carries 
a long spear, ornamented with the skin of serpents or 
crocodiles, or a heavy club of ebony, which is brought 
from the interior by the slave-dealers. Many of them 
also carry a circular shield of hippopotamus' hide, with a 
boss in the centre, forming a hollow for the hand, which 
grasps an iron bar. 

Great numbers of Nubians, oppressed by hard labour 
and heavy taxes, leave their country to seek subsistence 
as servants at Cairo, where they are in great request from 
their character for honesty and courage. In this particular 
they resemble the Swiss in Paris ; and like them, only 
strive to amass wealth, in the hope of enjoying it in their 
own country during the evening of their lives. 

The Egyptians call their language, or languages, 
Barabra, and themselves Berberi ; and this is probably a 
modification of the term Barbari, which the Greeks and 
Romans applied to all foreigners indiscriminately. As a 
nation, they appear industrious, simple, and much given 
to w r ar, at least in the shape of intestine feuds. Their 
principal vice appears to be drunkenness ; but I must say 
that I have this only from hearsay, as I never saw an 
instance of intoxication, except in our Nubian pilot, who 

1 2 



116 



NUBIAN BEAUTY. 



deeply expiated his offence. Their dram is distilled from 
rice, and called Eaki; but they have also a very tempting 
liquor called Boozy, distilled from barley. 

The Nubian woman is more free than her Egyptian 
neighbour, and also far more virtuous ; she seldom wears 
a veil, and, as she bends over the river to fill her water- 
jar, or walks away, supporting it with one hand, no 
statuary could imagine a more graceful picture than she 
presents. Her light and elegant figure has that serpent 
sinuousness, when she moves, that constitutes the very 
poetry of motion, and resembles gliding rather than 
walking. Her face is finely oval, and her dark eyes have 
a gentle and inquiring though somewhat sad expression, 
that seems to bespeak great intelligence. Her complexion 
is very dark, but it is of that bronze colour, so familiar to 
our eyes in statues, that it forms no detraction from the 
general beauty of this graceful and winning savage. 

There was a girl at Philoe, who, I think, approached 
more nearly the ideal of perfect loveliness than any other 
I have ever seen, and might have passed for the very 
spirit of that wild and beautiful region. Whether she 
lay couched under the shade of the palms, weaving the 
cotton, whose pale yellow flowers were strewn around her, 
or led her sheep to pasture, or smiled upon the children 
at their play, or gazed upon the strangers with her large, 
lustrous, gentle eyes — in every phase of her simple life, 
she was what Eve might well have been. 

The voices of these women are very sweet, and low, 
and plaintive; and though their language conveyed to my 
ear as little meaning as the song of birds, yet there was 
something in its tones that seemed familiar. Often, when 
our boat lay moored under the shadow of the palm, have 
I lain and listened to the murmur of their voices with a 
pleasure such as the richest notes of the Italian music 
never thrilled me with. There is nothing so associative 
as sound: there are tones, which our heart in its youth 
has heard, that never leave it ; that lie hushed from the 
wild tumult of the world we live in, until some sister- 
sound bids its association start to life, and with it recalls 
not only the time, but the feelings we enjoyed or suffered 
when first we heard its music. Under such a spell, the 



A CONCERT. 



117 



wild and savage scenery of Africa passed from before my 
eyes; far distant climes and times replaced it on Memory's 
mirage, and came thronging by as rapidly as those hours 
had fleeted, when I was roused from my reverie by 
Mahmoud's informing me, with an execration, that these 
" maladette donne" wanted three piastres a piece for their 
" maladetti pollastri. ' 

Whilst advancing south, we are driving against the 
current at the rate of four or five miles an hour, with 
an indolent and luxurious sense of motion that is the 
principal charm of our river navigation in this delicious 
climate. But, as the sun goes down behind the desert 
mountains, the breeze falls too; we are fain to anchor 
under a high bank till morning, and, wearied as we are 
with cataracts, and temples, and desert pedestrianism, we 
gladly prepare to rest. But, hark ! as the moon rises over 
yon grove of palms, the sounds of song mingle with the 
faint rustle of their foliage, and our ears find something 
strangely attractive in this mysterious music, issuing from 
invisible lips in a land all strange to us. " C'e un hallo /" 
exclaimed Mahmoud, starting from his carpet where he 
had just composed himself to rest. " E un gran ballo !" 
repeated he, as he placed his hand to his ear to listen more 
attentively. " Andiamo, Signori," he continued, with an 
expression that seemed to say the expedition was ine- 
vitable; " Andiamo," echoed we, as we stuck pistols in 
our girdles, and flung our jackets over our shoulders. 

And now behold us threading our way through a dark 
forest, attended by a volunteer escort of four of our crew 
armed with clubs. As we steered our way by the sound 
of the yet distant music, I inquired of Mahmoud if we 
should find our unconscious entertainers dancing. " Oh, 
yes." "What! the women dancing with the men?" 
"Corpo di Bacco ! No; these women are all highly 
respectable." "How do you know? you have never 
mixed in the gay world here." "All the Berberi women 
are respectable." " But," said I, " the most respectable 
women in my country dance as if it was a part of their 
duty." "Ah!" replied the Moslem, "son' Christiane, 
queste," and our conversation terminated with the forest. 

From this we soon emerged upon a tract of snow-white 



118 



DEMAND FoR PRESENTS. 



sand, interspersed with dark and lofty piles of granite rock, 
shadowed here and there by some scattered palms. 

In one of the yacant spaces sat a row of women in a 
semicircle, surrounded by a crowd of men, all standing 
and listening attentively to the concert, which was entirely 
composed of female voices. The women were all singing 
very vehemently, accompanying themselves with tam- 
borines, or marking the time by clapping their hands. 
The moon, brilliant as she was, could not light up their 
dark faces, and I could only see the gleaming of their 
eyes: some few coquettishly turned away their faces as 
we approached, but soon gave themselves up once more 
to their absorbing song. It was very wild ; but the music 
was far sweeter and more varied than any I had yet heard 
in Africa, and there were passages in the ceaseless chant 
that I would fain have carried away in my memory. 

At first, our appearance was unobserved, owing to the 
shadow in which we stood, and the deep interest with 
which they listened ; but, when we came forward, a mat 
was spread for us in front of the performers, some shots 
were fired in our honour, and all the elders of the village 
came up to salute us. I shook hands with half a dozen 
of the greasy savages, and made room upon my mat for 
him who appeared to be Sheikh. It was a very curious 
scene, that semicircle of dark women vehemently chanting 
their wild song, and the wall of fierce-looking figures that 
surrounded us; the bright moon, shining on the white 
sand, threw these figures into strong relief, while the 
shadow of a palm flickered and played about, like some 
huge spasmodic spider. The Sheikh, whose white beard 
flowed freely over his dusky bosom, sat by my side with 
an appearance of the most perfect nonchalance, as if we 
had the run of his house, and were in the habit of " look- 
ing in of an evening occasionally:" the gloomy-looking 
groups that surrounded us bristled with long spears that 
appeared to be part of their ball-dress. 

After a short time, I distributed some small presents 
among the women, who received them in silence; and 
then the men began to gather round us, demanding money 
and other trifles in a tone that appeared by no means 
conciliatory, coming from the possessors of spear and 



KALABSHE. 



119 



shield. T \Ye liad no choice but to resist at once, briefly 
and indignantly; whereupon, an ill-looking ruffian, who 
very much resembled one of the jackall-headed deities or 
devils on the tombs at Thebes, demanded why, if we had 
no money to give them, we came there. " We have 
powder," said I, pointing to my pistol; and Mahmoud, 
starting up in great indignation, began a violent decla- 
mation on their want of courtesy and hospitality. The 
more decent part of the community seemed to appreciate 
his eloquence, and respectfully retired to a little distance; 
but some of the spearmen gathered round us, and became 
the more clamorous. The women disappeared, and we 
found ourselves in no very pleasant predicament, standing 
in the midst of a couple of hundred angry savages, half a 
mile from our boat at midnight, in the depths of a Nubian 
forest. 

11 This comes of dissipation," observed R. ; and the laugh 
that followed his remark probably stood us in better stead 
than even the dread of English fire-arms. I made a speech 
about strangers, Englishmen. Pashas, &c, which Mahmoud 
interpreted to the Sheikh: and we prepared to depart with 
very menacing gestures, as if we had some serious thoughts 
of sending the whole assembly in chains to Cairo. The 
crowd opened to let our little procession pass: our four 
sailors in advance; and I, who alone had pistols, in the 
rear. I paused a moment to shake hands with the decent 
old Sheikh; shook my fist at the jackall-looking robber, 
and plunged into the wood with the rest of my party. 

The last glimpse I caught of the assembly represented 
the dusky dandies in high debate, which they probably 
finished by a fight. 

The next day we passed within the Tropics, and caught 
glimpses of some very picturesque glens opening into the 
desert, as we darted on before a spanking breeze. We 
came to an anchor in the evening at Kalabske, a com- 
manding-looking town, on the right bank of the river. Its 
inhabitants bear such a character for courage and determi- 
nation that neither tax-gatherer nor conscript-catcher has 
ever ventured within its walls— a practical result of heroism 
that Jeremy Bentham himself might give them credit for. 

As usual, a crowd gathered round our boat as soon as 



TROPICAL CLIMATE. 



we arrived ; they were all armed, but quiet, civil, and 
respectful. The young men stood apart, but the old men 
squatted themselves on the bank, and asked for news; the 
women brought milk, eggs, and poultry to dispose of, and 
the children produced coins and pebbles. 

Leaving the antiquities to be explored on our return, 
we resumed our voyage. 




GROUP OF NUBIANS. 



No words can convey an idea of the beauty and delight- 
fulness of tropical weather, at least while any breeze from 
the north is blowing. There is a pleasure in the very act 
of breathing — a voluptuous consciousness that existence 
is a blessed thing ; the pulse beats high, but calmly ; the 
eye feels expanded, the chest heaves pleasurably, as if air 
was a delicious draught to thirsty lungs, and the mind 
takes its colouring and character from sensation. No 
thought of melancholy ever darkens over us — no painful 
sense of isolation or of loneliness, as day after day we pass 
on through silent deserts, upon the silent and solemn river. 
One seems, as it were, removed into another state of 
existence ; and all the strifes and struggles of that from 
which we have emerged seem to fade, softened into indis- 



EXCESSIVE LANGUOR. 



121 



tinctness. This is what Homer and Alfred Tennyson 
knew the lotos-eaters felt when they tasted of the myste- 
rious tree of this country, and became weary of their 
wanderings: — 

" To him the gushing of the wave, 
Far, far away, did seem to mourn and rave 
On alien shores : and if his fellow spake, 
His voice was thin, as voices from the grave : 
And deep asleep he seemed, yet all awake, 
And music in his ears his beating heart did make." 

If the day, with all the tyranny of its sunshine and its 
innumerable insects, be enjoyable in the Tropics, the night 
is still more so, The stars shine out with diamond bril- 
liancy, and appear as large as if seen through a telescope. 
Their changing coloars, the wake of light they cast upon 
the water, the distinctness of the Milky Way, and the 
splendour, above all, of the evening star, give one the im- 
pression of being under a different firmament from that to 
which we have been accustomed; then, the cool, delicious 
airs of night, with all the strange and stilly sounds they 
bear from the desert and the forest; the delicate scents 
they scatter, and the languid breathings with which they 
make our large white sails appear to pant, as they flutter 
softly over the water. 

Thus we ran along the river, day and night, for many 
a week. Sometimes the weather was so hot, that even 
our sunburnt sailors could move no longer with the towing 
rope: we thus lost many hours of noon in idleness, while 
the sun blazed fiercely on the red desert, that reflected 
back his rays with interest on the naked cliflfe and on the 
flashing river. This was the real hour of repose; the 
silence was intense, and all nature seemed entranced ; 
happy those who could sleep away that season of impor- 
tunate sunshine ! to read was impossible; languid thought 
refused to act, and would even dream no longer; the very 
mosquitos and gnats fell asleep or scorched; and there was 
nothing for it but pipes, sherbet, and resignation. 

But when the sun begins to sink towards the west, 
where the clouds seem to grow red-hot at his touch, and 
glow like bars of iron in a furnace, then all nature, from 
the mountain-breezes to the mosquitos, begins to revive. 



122 



BEAUTIFUL ISLAND. 



The sailors are in motion; the bull-frog raises his bel- 
lowing, the few solitary birds their song; the river finds 
its murmur, and we plunge into its waters, and then take 
a stroll upon the desert with our guns. As night comes 
on, the moonlight gives the reddish-coloured sands the 
appearance of a snow-covered world reflecting the glow 
of some distant conflagration. The sand-hills where we 
wander are sprinkled with stunted shrubs, on which the 
gazelle feeds, and among which the lion and the wolf lurk 
for these desert deer. 

At some distance from the river I stood alone upon a 
naked mountain's side, and the prospect was the wildest, 
loneliest, and dreariest I had ever witnessed. Far and 
wide, to the horizon's edge, the trackless, monotonous 
desert spread its undulations like a sea: but without a 
shadow, or a fleck of foam, or a sail to enliven its dull, 
sulky-looking wastes. There was not even a tree to 
relieve the view, nor anything on which to rest the 
weary eye, bat the river winding in blue or silver, as 
the moon or the shadow fell upon its waters; and on its 
surface far away floated one small speck, containing the 
only human hearts that beat within that wide-extended 
circle of blank desert and unclouded sky. 

Sometimes we came to places where the river narrowed 
like the river Avon under Clifton Downs, and the sailors 
could often find no footing on the crags; then they would 
swim in files, drawing the boat-rope in their teeth. After 
leaving such gorges and deserts, we opened upon a broad, 
calm river, and a country which appeared to smile with 
verdure in comparison to that which we had come from. 

As the river broadened, there appeared an island that 
would have been beautiful anywhere, but here was like a 
glimpse of Paradise. Palm-groves waved over peaceful 
villages, green lawns were speckled with flocks and herds, 
luxuriant corn-fields were parked off by light palings, 
melon gardens ran along the rivers verdant border, which 
was flecked with their golden fruit and flower; groves of 
the lote-tree and acacia sheltered the blossoming bean and 
lupine from the sun, and the whole scene seemed full of 
peace and gentle prosperity. As we slowly glided past 
this Eden, the inhabitants eame to the water's edge to 



TURKISH DESPOTISM. 



123 



gaze upon the strangers; little children, hand in hand, 
almost too small to grasp the other: an old man, with 
flowing beard and patriarchal robes, was leaning on a 
graceful girl, whose unveiled limbs displayed a model of 
symmetry: the few other people whom we saw were 
employed in some light labour, from which they ran 
smilingly to watch our boat, as she glided away from a 
spot that, to this moment, appears to me to have realized 
all the poets feign of a Golden Age. 

In little more than a fortnight we returned, and passed 
by that little isle again. Hell let loose could scarcely 
have wrought a more fearful change than that which pre- 
sented itself; the cottages were blackened and reeking 
ruins; the palm-trees were cut down, the gardens trampled 
and strewn with many a corpse, the dry corn burnt to the 
ground, boats were passing to and fro, busily conveying 
the little wealth of the islanders to the encampment on 
the mainland, and returning with the horses and camels 
of the invaders to eat up the standing crops; the gentle 
natives all gone, and replaced by a fierce soldiery, who 
prowled about this harvest of misery as if in search of 
further gleanings. 

And what was become of the inhabitants — those whom 
I had almost envied as I past them by upon my desert 
way? The men were, for the most part, slain, and the 
less fortunate were outcasts on the desert or the mountain: 
the children were sold into slavery, the women became the 
prey of that ferocious soldiery whose arms now gleamed 
from every dark rock round : and that graceful girl with 
her father — where was she 1 Our blood boiled with indig- 
nation; we cursed the Pasha, his bloody policy, and the 
fiends who ministered to it; and I asked Mahmoud if he 
did not blush to belong to the same race as the authors of 
this accursed desolation: he shook his head, and said "it 
was all God's will /" 

It seems that one of the natives of this island had been 
murdered by one of a neighbouring district, and, that, 
according to the custom of the country, the friends of the 
murdered man demanded vengeance, or declared that they 
would take it. The Governor of Nubia happened to be 
travelling down the Nile at the time, and, hearing of the 



124 



SINGULAR ROCKS. 



circumstance, sent for the chiefs of the respective tribes. 
The friends of the murderer having sent him a large bribe, 
he presented a slave (slaves are of no value here) to the 
injured party, and said, fi Here is the man who slew your 
islander ; kill him, and depart in peace." "Nay," replied 
the injured party, "the slave only acted by the command 
of his master ; we will have that master's life, or else kill 
the Sheikh of the village." The Turkish governor, in a 
rage, ordered them to leave his presence, which they did, 
asserting their rights and defying his power. He pro- 
ceeded to Dirr, procured a force of 300 soldiers, descended 
the river to the island, attacked it in the night-time, and 
we arrived the morning after this exhibition of Oriental 
justice. 

Passing Korosko and Dirr for the present unvisited, 
we continued our course to Ipsamboul. Even this we left 
behind us, with the spacious ruined castle of Ibreem. To 
the left, from a perfectly level tract of sand, started up 
some rocks of the most singular form ; one of them was a 
pyramid nearly as perfect as that of Cheops ; another not 
unlike the shape of a sphinx, the rough-hewn workman- 
ship of Nature. 




SINGULAR GROUP OF ROCKs NEAR IPSAMBOUL. 



CHANGE OF PURPOSE 



.125 



We encountered few incidents, and never met a boat 
upon a lonely river but one, which was crowded with 
slaves from Abyssinia. These captives are for the most 
part Christians when caught, but they are immediately 
Moslemized lest — dying upon their passage from hardship 
or barbarity — Mahomet should lose their souls as well as 
the dealer their bodies. 

On the eighth day after leaving Philoe, we arrived at 
Wady Haifa, about five miles to the south of the Second 
Cataract, which is impassable to boats; we were now 
about a thousand miles from the sea, and held a council 
as to our future proceedings. 

The debate was opened by a disquisition on the savage 
beauties of Abyssinia, and the giraffe and hippopotamus 
shooting in the Meadows of Gondar. The confluence of 
the Blue and White Rivers at Khartoum was only twenty- 
five days' journey across the desert, and then the interest- 
ing part of the journey would commence. At present, 
the thermometer stood at 1J0°, what of that ! the swing- 
ing pace, and the height of the dromedary, would circu- 
late the air about us, and elevate us from the reflection 
of the desert's burning sands. In vain were arguments ! 
We had been already five weeks in Savagedom, among 
sands, and deserts, and scorching sunshines, and, to say 
the truth, we had had enough of it. Hurrah ! then, for 
the cool breezy North — the dashing sea — and the Syrian 
saddle ; enough of this bed-ridden, dreamy life — so charm- 
ing a few weeks since. Forward ! to a life of action, 
novelty, and newspapers ; and let Abyssinia, Meroe, and 
the Desert, sleep on in their solitudes. 

This resolve having been come to, we stood away again 
up the river as far as the Cataract would allow. Then, 
landing on the Western bank, we set out across the desert 
to Mount Abousir, a steep and rocky hill which overlooks 
the whole range of the Cataract, and commands a far view 
into the country beyond. 

Soon after we struck into the desert, we came to an 
altar, sheltered by the only tree which was visible within 
the horizon : this altar was erected in honour of a santon, 
or Moslem saint, who, fortunately for the country, had 



126 



SECOND CATARACT. 



perished "here; it was dark-red with dried blood, kui 
clotted with the gore of numberless victims. 

The sun was intensely hot, the wind was high, and the 
air occasionally darkened by clouds of sand- dust whirled 
from the hills. We rode for some miles along the bank 
of the river, that rushed and foamed amongst a hundred 
tittle rocky islands, clothed by the incessant spray with 
verdure and low shrubs. On resuming our desert path, 
we picked up some apples of Sodom that lay strewn upon 
the desert without apparent connection 'with any stem; 
they were of a bright gold green, about the size of an 
orange, but perfectly round and smooth ; they gave the 
idea of being swelled out with the richest juice, that, 
when bitten, must gush forth to meet the thirsting lip ; 
you crush this plausible rind, however, and a cloud of 
fetid dust bursts forth, leaving only a few little cinders 
as a residue. 

At length we arrived at the mountain, very hot and 
very weary ; and, what was worse, without any prospect 
of shelter or refreshment ; when, turning a corner of the 
rock, we found the exemplary Mahmoud had been before 
us; there the tent spread its cool shade, and the coffee 
bubbled, and the pipes were only waiting to be lighted. 
Never did I feel more grateful for kind service : 1 had 
been ill for some days; and now, though utterly exhausted, 
I could lie upon a soft carpet spread upon the glowing 
sands, and from the shelter of the tent survey at leisure 
the marvellous prospect that lay spread before us. 

There — one wide, wild desolate waste — lay the once 
fertile kingdom of Nubia, beneath our view. Except the 
few shrubs that crawled upon the river islands, and a 
grove of palms far away over Wady Haifa, there was not 
an appearance of life or vegetation under the sky : blank 
— utterly blank and mournful deserts spread round us on 
all sides to the very horizon. Far away to the south, the 
river gleamed bluely; but then, entering the falls, it be- 
came black with shadows, or white with foam, until, after 
a tortured course of ten or twelve miles, it found rest in 
Lhe wide levels of Wady Haifa. The rocks about us were 
of sandstone, grey and red, and there were some large 



WAmY half a. 



127 



masses of this stone turned on the upper side into scoria, 
having been partially fused by some means which only 
He who made them knows. There were also some boul- 
ders of granite lying about, but there was no rock of that 
description that I could discover ; yet this was the highest 
spot for fifty miles around. 

When rested, I walked down among the cliffs with our 
guide, who was an intelligent old Arab, and who spoke 
like a sportsman of the gazelles that come there to drink 
on moonlight nights, and the hyaenas that come to watch 
them. Crocodiles are very numerous below the cataract, 
but they are never found in lively water. A hippopo- 
tamus made great ravages some time ago, near Wady 
Haifa, but he had not been seen for the last twelvemonth. 
Some few grey swallows flitted about the mountain, and 
these were the only living things I saw upon that scorch- 
ing rock. 

There are many names carved on this bourn of travel- 
lers; amongst others, those of Belzoni, in 1816, Burck- 
hardt, Irby and Mangles, Lord Lindsay and his lost friend, 
whose name I re-carved with care, as one of the few me- 
morials that remain of one of the most amiable of men. 
There were many other names, but only one of woman 
that I could trace : it was simply written " Fanny,"'' 4 and 
was more probably carved in memory of one who was far 
away in her happy English home, than of one who stood 
upon that mountain by the carvers side. 

The moon shone brightly over the desert as we regained 
)ur floating home, which presented a very altered appear- 
ance : the mainmast had been taken out, and lashed from 
the foremast to the poop; it supported an awning for the 
sailors, who were now to row perpetually, all hope of a 
southerly wind being vain in these regions. But the prin- 
cipal change consisted in her bow being turned north- 
wards, down the stream and towards Christendom. Under 
these altered circumstances, we went on board with won- 
derful satisfaction; and, after a prayer to Allah for a 

* I have at present in my possession three letters from unknown 
correspondents, each purporting to have graced the rock with this 
pleasant name. Yet, I will swear, there was only one " Fanny " 
written there. 



128 



NILE SONG. 



prosperous voyage, the sailors took their seats for a month's 
rowing, and we started. 

Our men commenced their homeward voyage with the 
following song, which I have rudely but faithfully trans- 
lated. The music was monotonous, but soothing, and their 
oars kept accurate time to its cadences :— 

THE ARAB SAILOR'S SONG 

Allah ! il Allah ! hear our prayer ! 
Just Prophet ! grant that the winds be fair. 
And the guiding Moon her lustre lends, 
To favour the guest whom Allah sends.* 

The stranger's home is far away, 
'Neath the bright death-bed of the dav; 
O'er many horizons f his bark must go 
Ere he reach that home. Row, Arabs, row. 

Though gentle Kile, for stormy sea, 
Though for forest dark, the bright palm-tree 
He must change, yet his father's home is there, 
And his love's soft eye is gloomed with care. 

The pale-faced stranger, lonely here, 
In cities afar, where his name is dear, 
Your Arab truth and strength shall show 
He trusts in us. Row, Arabs, row. 

And they didrow, sometimes eighteen hours at a stretch, 
only pausing to eat their scanty meals, and to drink of 
their beloved river. There was one Nubian in our crew, 
a harmless, inoffensive creature, who filled the indispen- 
sable situation of but to his comrades — submitting to all 
their jokes, and laughing at them, too, even when practised 
on himself. The day on which we entered Nubia, how- 
ever, he came out in a new character, knocked overboard 
an Egyptian who had affronted him, and, to the surprise 
of all, actually volunteered a song. It was received with 
great approbation, and repeated so often with shouts of 
laughter, that I obtained a translation of it. This I sub- 
join, premising that the refrain " Durwadeega" is Nubian 
for " Henhouse," and that this henhouse is always the 

* Mahomet hospitably taught that a stranger was a "God-given 
guest," which the Arabs naturally consider the best of introductions. 
+ In the East, they count distances by horizons. 



NUBIAN SONG. 



129 



property of the wife, which her husband is obliged to make 
over to her in case of a divorce. 

NUBIAN SONG. 

A change came o'er my husband's mind; 

He loved me once, and was true and kind ; 

Till his heart went astray, and he wished me away, 

But he had no money my dower to pay. 

Sing Durwadeega, Durwadee, 

Oh dear to me is Durwadee ! 

For, blessed be Allah ! he's old and poor, 
And my cocks and hens were his only store, 
So he kept me still, for well he knew 
If I went, that the cocks and hens went too. 

Sing Durwadeega, Durwadee, 

Oh dear to me is Durwadee ! 

But I saw him pining day by day, 

As he wished his poor wife far away ; 

So I went my rival home to call, 

And gave her the henhouse and him and all. 

Sing Durwadeega, Durwadee, 

Oh dear to me is Durwadee 1 

Then he tore his turban off his brow, 
And swore I never should leave him now. 
Till the death-men combed his burial locks,* 
Then blessed for ever be hens and cocks. 

Sing Durwadeega, Durwadee, 

Oh dear to me is Durwadeega ! 

"Songs of the Nile," and " River Melodies/' and Arab 
poetry, by octavos, have found their way to English harp, 
and piano, and perusal. Many of these are very pretty, 
and some beautiful, but few bear any mark of coming 
farther from the East than Temple-bar : they are, in fact, 
too good to be true, — an objection the severest critic cannot 
bring forward against these genuine importations of mine. 
Every Nile-traveller will find his dragoman acquainted 
with the last two songs that I have quoted, and he can 
put them into better poetry for himself, if he has leisure. 

I shall quote one more song (which is Cairene, net 

* The head of the Moslem is kept closely shaved, with the excep- 
tion of one long lock of hair, which is left for the convenience of tiie 
resurrection angel to pull him out of his grave. This is carefully 
arranged by those who prepare the corpse for burial. 

K 



130 



EGYPTIAN SERENADE. 



Nilotic, by-the-bye), as illustrative of the singular manner 
in which these people blend love and religion, and express 
in the same stanza their devotion to their Maker and their 
mistress. 

SERENADE. 

Come forth, bright girl ! and midnight skiea 
Will think that morning's gate uncloses ; 
The dazzled dew will think thine eyes 
Are suns, and vanish from the roses. 
Allah ! how my heart- strings stir 
Harp-like touched by thought of her ! 
Holy prophet ! blessed be thou ! 
Fairest maiden, hear my vow ! 

The rich red wine seems mantling high 

Within thy cheeks, so roseate glowing, 
And beauty-drunkenness through mine eye 
Is all my fevered heart o'erfiowing. 
Blessed Allah ! send thy grace ! 
Blessed Allah ! make my face 
White, before thy presence dread 
Wakes to life the slumbering dead. 

Our crew sang for two monfhs almost without intermis- 
sion, yet never seemed to tire of their songs. Among 
the items furnished by our dragoman as necessary to our 
outfit, were a dram and some Nile flutes. The former 
consisted of a large earthen bowl, with a skin stretched 
over it; the latter resembled the double flageolet, and 
was made of reeds : it seemed capable of a much wider 
range of notes than their monotonous music required: 
its sound was shrill, but not unpleasing, and every sailor 
on board seemed a proficient in its use. I could detect 
but little variety in the airs, and the words were of the 
simplest kind. I listened as vainly for the songs of Antar 
among the Arabs of f'gypt, as I had done for those of 
Tasso among the gondoliers of Venice. The songs of the 
Arab sailor are generally of home, of the Nile — never of 
war, but most of all of love ; few of these last are fit for 
translation ; and, as the home-made poetry of a people 
always takes for its subject that which is uppermost in 
their thought, I fear the sensuality of their muse must be 
taken as some index of their character. It is true that 
the songs of our sailors and our cottagers are not always 



ANTIQUITIES OF NUBIA. 



131 



of the most edifying character; but the popularity of 
some of the "old songs that are the music of the heart;" 
the enthusiasm for the compositions of Moore, Burns, and 
Dibdin, which linked in one sympathy the castle and the 
cottage, and the sailor's home, — all prove that there is an 
echo to a purer tone even in the rugged and too-little- 
cared-for minds of our peasantry. 



CHAPTER XIII. 
ANTIQUITIES OF NUBIA. 

Here Desolation keeps unbroken sabbath, 

'Mid caves, and temples, palaces, and sepulchres; 

Ideal images in sculptured forms, 

Thoughts hewn in columns, or in caverned hill, 

In honour of their deities and of their dead. 

James Montgomery. 

We rowed all day, and floated all night at the river's 
will, from the time we commenced our northern course. 
The reader by this time must be as tired of river scenery, 
palms, villages, and deserts, as, to say the truth, we began 
to be ourselves. I shall, therefore, only allude, as we pass, 
to the architectural marvels that fringe this unique river. 

Towards evening on the second day after leaving Wady 
Haifa, we repassed the extraordinary group of pyramidal 
and other rocky mountains I have mentioned in ascend- 
ing the river, and then arrived at the chief wonder of 
Nubia, if not of all the Valley of the Nile. The correct 
name of this rock-temple is Abou-Symbal; but it is so 
much more generally known as Ipsamboul, that I shall 
make use of that name ; writing as I do for English, not 
for Arab readers. 

After sailing for some hours through a country quite 
level on the eastern bank, we came upon a precipitous 
rocky mountain, starting up so suddenly from the rivers 
ed^e that its very summits are reflected in the water. 
We moored under a sandbank, and, accompanied by half 
a dozen of the crew with torches, approached this isolated 

K2 



132 



TEMPLE OF IPSAMBOUL. 



and stupendous rock. Yet, even here, the daring Genius 
of ^Ethiopian architecture ventured to enter into rivalry 
with Nature's greatness, and found her material in the 
very mountains that seemed to bid defiance to her efforts. 

On the face of the vertical cliff a recess is excavated, 
to the extent of about a hundred feet in width. From 
this four gigantic figures stand out in very bold relief. 
Between the two central stony giants, a lofty doorway 
opens into a vast hall supported by square pillars, each 
the size of a tower and covered with hieroglyphics ; just 
enough painting still glimmers faintly on these columns 
to show that they were formerly covered with it; and 
the walls are carved into historic figures in slight relief; 
these, as our torches threw an uncertain glare over them, 
seemed to move, and become instinct with life. 




ENTRANCE TO THE GREAT TEMPLE OF IPSAMBOUL. 



This temple was dedicated to Athor, the lady of Aboccis 
(the ancient name of Ipsamboul) ; who is represented 
within under the form of the Sacred Cow. This was 
however, a mere "chapel of ease" to the great temple, 
excavated from a loftier rock about fifty yards distant. 
Between these two a deep gorge once ran to the river, but 



TEMPLE OF IPSAMBOUL. 



183 



this is now choked up with sand, in whose burning waves 
we waded knee-deep to the Temple of Osiris. 

Here, a space of about 100 feet in height is hewn from 
the mountain, smooth, except for the reliefs. Along the 
summit runs a frieze of little monkeys, in long array; as if 
the architect felt the absurdity of the whole business, or as 
Byron sometimes finishes off a sublime sentence with a 
scoff. Then succeeds a line of hieroglyphics and some 
faintly-carved figures, also in relief; and then four colossal 
giants that seem to guard the portal. They are seated on 
thrones (which form with themselves part of the living 
rock), and are about sixty feet high. One is quite perfect, 
admirably cut, and the proportions accurately preserved ; 
the second is defaced as far as the knee; the third is buried 
in sand to the waist, and the fourth has only the face and 
neck visible above the desert's sandy avalanche. The 
doorway stands between the two central statues, and is 
surmounted by a statue of Isis wearing the moon as a 
turban. 

On entering, the traveller finds himself in a temple 
which a few days' work might restore to the state in which 
it was left just finished 3000 years ago. The dry climate 
and its extreme solitude have preserved its most delicate 
details from injury; besides which, it was hermetically 
sealed by the desert for thousands of years, until Burck- 
hardt discovered it, and Mr. Hay cleared away its protect- 
ing sands. 

A vast and gloomy hall, such as Eblis might have given 
Vathek audience in, receives you in passing from the flam- 
ing sunshine into that shadowy portal. It is some time 
before the eye can ascertain its dimensions through the im- 
posing gloom ; but gradually there reveals itself, around 
and above you, a vast aisle, with pillars formed of eight 
colossal giants upon whom the light of heaven has never 
shone. These images of Osiris are backed by enormous 
pillars, behind which run two great galleries, and in these 
torchlight alone enabled us to peruse a series of sculptures 
in relief, representing the triumphs of Rameses the Second, 
or Sesostris. The painting, which once enhanced the effect 
of these spirited representations, is not dimmed, but 



134 



GEBEL ADIIA. 



crumbled away; where it exists, the colours are as vivid 
as ever. 

This unequalled' hall is one hundred feet in length; and 
from it eight lesser chambers, all sculptured, open to the 
right and left. Straight on, is a low doorway, opening into 
a second hall of similar height, supported by four square 
pillars; and within all, is the adytum, wherein stands a 
simple altar of the living rock in front of four large figures 
seated on rocky thrones. This inner shrine is hewn at 
least one hundred yards into the rock; and here, in the 
silent depths of that great mountain, these awful idols, 
with their mysterious altar of human sacrifice, looked very 
preadamitic and imposing. They seemed to sit there 
waiting for some great summons which should awaken and 
reanimate these " kings of the earth who lie in glory, every 
one in his own house." 

We wandered through many chambers, in which the air 
is so calm and undisturbed, that the very smell of the 
torches of the last explorers of these caverns was percep- 
tible. 

After leaving Ipsamboul, we crossed over to a cavern in 
the opposite cliff, where is also hewn a rock-temple, called 
Gebel Adha, which was used in later times as a Christian 
church. It was a curiuus sight to see images of our 
Saviour, and the Virgin, blazoned in glowing colours on 
these walls and roofs, surrounded by trophies and memo- 
rials of the idols whose worship they bad swept away. 
Steps, also hewn in the rock, descended to a certain 
distance towards the river, aud then suddenly ceased : a 
convincing proof, among many others, that fhe level of 
the waters was much higher (even so lately as the chris- 
tening of this temple) than at present. 

Besides, where now could dwell the heathens for those 
temples, or the Christians for that church? Not, surely, in 
the interminable desert wastes that alone encompass them 
in our times. 

From these temples we dropped down the river, reading 
the Prophecies by the light alone of a most brilliant moon. 
We shot some dangerous rapids formed by a reef of rocks 
called Tosko; then passed the castle of Ibreem, which Can- 



ROYAL AUDIENCE. 



135 



dace defended from Petronius, the lieutenant of Julius 
Caesar; and which Sultan Selim also used as a garrison to 
keep the Nubians in check. 

The next morning we moored at Dirr, the chief town 
of Nubia, and went ashore to visit the king, as Mahmoud 
called Hassan Kiashef. It is a town of mud-houses, rather 
better built than any we had previously seen, scattered 
among gardens of herbs, melons, cucumbers, &c , and every 
dwelling sheltered by its own palms. Crowds of children 
collected round us, and accompanied our progress through 
the mud metropolis; all the women, too, ran to their doors 
to gaze at the white strangers, who, by the bye, deserved 
the epithet by this time as little as the Dirrians them- 
selves. 

We continued our progress to the palace, which was a 
mud building of immense extent, including many courts 
and stables. In front was an open space, shadowed by a 
noble sycamore ; some travellers reclined under its shade 
on carpets, with two or three camels standing near. His 
sable majesty had been transacting some business with the 
Turkish governor, and we now saw him returning to the 
palace, attended by half-a-dozen other very old men, all 
dressed in green or blue robes, and wearing very large, 
white turbans; this dress, together with their long, grey 
beards, gave the procession an imposing appearance ; and 
it was not without some real reverence we made our salu- 
tation, which was very condescendingly returned. Our 
Nubian pilot ran up, and, seizing the passive hand of his 
sovereign, pressed it to his lips, and then placed it on 
his head. The poor old chief walked very erect, but 
listlessly; and his countenance wore an expression of long 
suffering and sorrow. He courteously motioned us to 
follow, and led the way through several enclosures to a 
hall of audieuce resembling in most respects a barn. It 
was a large, dreary-looking room, with two window- 
places); the only furniture consisted of a divan covered 
with an old carpet, a few mats spread upon the floor, and 
a little shelf of unpainted wood, on which lay a rusty 
brace of pistols, a rude hammer, and some nothings. A 
few very primitive-looking swords, spears, and shields, 
were the only attempts at ornament. 



136 



KOROSKO. 



Cheerless as was the aspect of the apartment, it seemed 
to suit the circumstances of the king, whose desolate and 
state-fallen condition accorded too faithfully with that of 
his dreary and forlorn kingdom. His sons were all away, 
scattered over various parts of their father's desert realms; 
he had recently dismissed all his wives from his harem ; 
and his careworn old heart knew nothing of the comfort 
which cheers the old age that in return sanctifies an 
English home. 

The royal savage received us with that air of lofty, yet 
gentle courtesy, which long and legitimate authority seems 
always to confer; and we seated ourselves as respectfully 
on his ragged carpet as if Mehemet Ali had never been 
known in Nubia. " Not all the water m the rough, rude 
sea, can wash the balm from an anointed king," I muttered 
to myself; " though the water be the Nile, and castor be 
the oil." 

While we took our seats by his side, in compliance with 
his invitation, the elders of the village who had accom- 
panied him seated themselves on the mats upon the floor 
and the black mob waited outside, filling the doorway with 
a mass of ivory teeth, and woolly heads, and glittering 
eyes. After about ten minutes' conversation concerning 
the history and antiquities of his country, of which he 
professed himself profoundly ignorant, he broke up the 
levee by asking for some powder, and a knife, and raisins; 
and we rose. We thought this was rather a beggarly ter- 
mination of a royal audience, but promised the valuables, 
and departed. We were followed by a crowd of naked 
menials, clamouring for " baksheesh," because one had 
handed coffee, another sugar, and the rest had been present 
at our presentation. 

We sailed away in the afternoon, and visited the temple 
of A in mad a, about four miles down the river, on the 
eastern bank. It is very beautifully painted and sculp- 
tured, and, standing alone in the desert, some distance 
from the river, it is one of the most striking sights that 
occur in this district. 

Proceeding some hours further the next day, we arrived 
at Korosko, a village situated in a green oasis of a valley, 
surrounded by dark, lofty precipices, through the gorge 



WADY SEBOtT. 



137 



of which lies the desert route to Shendy. We found here 
a caravan and some officers of the Pasha's army going to 
Sennaar. The scene was rendered very picturesque by 
the encampment of the latter; their green and white tents 
scattered among the palms; their horses picketted on a 
grassy bank near the shore; and, further inland, groups 
of camels and dromedaries were reposing among the 
scattered eottages, their swarthy attendants squatted on 
carpets, or sauntering with their pipes among the groves. 
The women were gleaning in the corn-fields ; the men, 
nearly naked, with spear and shield, and long black hair, 
were watching their flocks; and probably presented the 
same appearance that their father Ishmael wore four 
thousand years ago. 

Wady Sebou, or Valley of the Lions, raised our ex- 
pectations of seeing some of these animals, an naturel ; 
but we found them unknown; and books informed us that 
the valley obtained its name from the sphinxes that form 
the approach to its rock-hewn temple. Of these only two 
now remain, on each side, and a statue with a stelae. 

Then we entered again upon a desert country, which 
continued until we reached Seyala. Here our attention 
was called to a very singular phenomenon by Mahmoud's 
exclaiming, " Ecco ! il soffio del diavolo !" and pointing 
towards the desert, where towered a vast column of sand, 
increasing as it whirled along to a mountain size. It strode 
the river and the waste like a flash of lightning, and dis- 
appeared over the far horizon. They say it is fatal to 
every living thing it overtakes unexpectedly, destroying 
whole caravans as instantaneously as the Assyrian-smiting 
angel. 

The little village of Seyala stands some distance from 
the river. It is surrounded on all sides by a very wide 
and lonely desert, which recalled forcibly that sublime 
expression of Isaiah's, "the burden of the desert of the 
sea;" and, lo ! towering above that sea, comes sailing a 
ship of the desert, with its pilot Arab. This traveller 
presented a fine specimen of the Bedouin warrior : his 
dromedary careered silently and swiftly over the trackless 
sands, his white robes fluttered in the breeze, a snowy 
turban shaded his swarthy visage, and his attitude seemed 



13S 



GUERF HASSAN. 



at once full of energy and repose. The vision was sudden 
in its appearance and vanishing, and was in such perfect 
keeping with the desert, that the wastes seemed no 
longer desolate; though nothing was there visible but the 
white dromedary, and the dark shadow which alone accom- 
panied it on its solitary way. The equipage of the desert- 
warrior was very simple : a large bundle of provender for 
his beast, and a water-skin hung at either side; he was 
armed with spear and shield, of course: a cumbrous 
sword swung from his saddle-bow. and a short knife 
strapped to his naked arm completed his appointments. 

Advancing day and night, we next stopped at Dakke, 
the stronghold of old ^Ethiopian Magic, where Tris- 
megisthus was adored, in whose honour a temple with 
some sculptures still remains. 

But we are now approaching Guerf Hassan, which ap- 
peared to me the most striking and characteristic spot in 
Nubia, even while having Ipsamboul vividly in recol- 
lection; it is the strangest, most unearthly place I ever 
beheld. It was dark when we arrived in its neighbour- 
hood, but this mattered little, as its mysterious recesses 
were only visible to torchlight in the brightest noon. 

We passed through some corn-fields; then came a strip 
of desert, then a tall cliff, and in it the enormous propylon 
of the temple. This, though built by human hands, stands 
out from the face of the mountain as if it had formed part 
of it from creation: four giant statues leaning against 
square pillars support its massive entablature. The vista 
of this colossal portico leads to a portal in the living rock 
some twenty feet in height, and this is the entrance to 
the temple. The coup (F<ml as we entered was very im- 
posing; a group of swarthy Arabs were waving blazing 
torches, and looked like officiating demon-priests, to the 
tall, awful, gigantic idols that towered above us : the 
temples seemed full of these grim statues, though there 
are only two rows, containing' four in each. The massive 
pedestals on which they stand are but ten feet apart, which 
adds considerably to the effect of their enormous size. 
Hence we passed into a lesser hall, and then into the 
adytum : numerous torches here gleamed upon walls, 
ghadowily giving out pictured battles, and kneeling 



RETURN TO THE FIRST CATARACT. 



139 



priests, and stern deities : and in the centre of the shrine 
was a rude altar, beyond which sat four gigantic idols, 
with strange-looking crowns upon their heads, and mys- 
terious emblems in their hands. It must be either a very 
strong or a very indifferent mind that can remain without 
some sense of awe in such a scene, or deny that it was 
well calculated to inspire such religious feeling as the eye 
alone can communicate to the soul. 

There were many other chambers; but we soon re- 
turned to the outer hall, and again reverently traversed 
its solemn aisles and galleries. Everywhere pillar and 
entablature were thickly encrusted with reliefs, and many 
a day might be passed in this sculptured library before 
its vast volumes were exhausted of their interest and 
meaning. 

Once more the torches gleamed over god and warrior, 
and cavern and shrine ; and we returned to our boat. 

After Guerf Hassan comes the little temple of Dan- 
dour, rich in hieroglyphics; and then Kalabshe. We 
found the inhabitants of this warlike little city in a great 
state of excitement, on account of the desolation of the 
island, which I have narrated in ascending the river. 
They asked eagerly for powder, and we only wished we 
could have given them barrels of it; they also inquired 
anxiously if we had seen the governor, whose avenging 
visit they also were expecting, and preparing a warm 
reception for. Here is one of the largest and most per- 
fect temples in Nubia, and, about two miles distant, 
another named Beit el Wellee. This last is of the 
Pharaonic times, and is adorned with beautiful paintings, 
whose colours are very fresh and vivid. 

The following day we passed the temple of Debod nn- 
visited, and, towards evening, arrived at Philoe, having 
been only fifteen days on our journey to the Second 
Cataract. 

Soon after daylight on the following morning, the Rais 
of the Cataract made his appearance, bringing with him 
eight athletic Nubians accustomed to the rapids and his 
voice, to row the boat instead of our own crew. After 
salams, and pipes, and coffee, we made sail and floated 



HO 



THE RAPIDS. 



away, surrounded by rafts, and swimmers, and water- 
logs, carrying double. We soon left all these behind, 
and, in a short time more, our beautiful Philoe disappeared 
behind the tall cliffs for ever. 

When we approached the Cataract, we stopped near a 
reef of rocks, to take in the grey old pilot of the Falls, 
and instantly a score of Nubians darted out of the crowd 
into our boat. Being already very top-heavy, owing to 
the masts and spars that were lashed to the foremast and 
poop, we desired Mahmoud to clear the decks in vain : 
one was a rais, and had a right to the risk of being 
drowned; another was his servant, another his cousin; 
and we finally shoved off, with five-and- thirty natives 
crowded on our narrow deck. The celebrated old Rais 
of all the Cataract is dead, and his rights seem to have 
descended in various falls to each of his sons, for there 
were several of these on board looking after their claims. 
The village Sheikh was there for the same purpose, and 
the Rais of the Lower Cataract also favoured us with his 
company, in order to ensure his share. 

"Yallough!" we are off. The Nubian river-guides 
pull away desperately, shouting a vehement song to which 
their oars keep rapid time, and we rush on to the calm space 
where the waters seem to pause before they plunge below. 
The chief Rais stands at the bow, gesticulating violently, 
watching eagerly every motion of the boat, and shouting 
out directions to the pilot, which were drowned in the 
yell of the rowers, the roar of the torrent, and the voci- 
ferations of every one on board, except ourselves and the 
old pilot; he stood erect and silent, watching every wave 
with a calm but vivid eye. 

Now we are in the Cataract — the waves foam up over 
the deck, and the spray renders everything invisible, 
except where the dark cliffs loom for a moment through 
its clouds; the boat darts wildly on through the weltering 
waters — a sharp rock seems to await her — she shuns it 
like a bird, and plunges down another cataract; then 
fairly spins round in its eddies, till, urged into way again 
by the sweeping oars, she seems to hover for a moment 
over the great fall ; — then down she goes, as if performing 



ASSOUAN. 



141 



a somerset; and we emerge about a hundred yards off 
from rock, and rapid, and exploit, which this last descent 
certainly deserves the name of. 

We were now on the Egyptian Nile once more. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

ESNEH— ARNAOUTS AND ALME— THEBES. 

As o'er the sands, in evening's glow, 
That temple threw its lengthened shade, 

Upon the marble steps below 
There sate a fair Egyptian maid. 

Epicurean. 
Fierce are Albania's children * * * 

Childe Harold. 

Our anxiety for English letters and news acquired force, 
like gravitation, as we descended the river; and we 
stopped only at Assouan long enough to take in necessary 
stores, such as charcoal, flour, &c. I may mention here, 
for the information of travellers, that during the first 
month of our voyage we had used only the bread of 
the country, which was often very indifferent ; but, on 
entering Nubia., we could no longer obtain even this, and 
Mahmoud thenceforth made Arab cakes for us of flour 
and water, which he baked upon a flat piece of iron ; 
this we found so excellent and wholesome, that we used 
nothing else until we reached Cairo. Our crew here laid 
in little stores of merchandize, for presents or for profit, 
of the Nubian articles most prized in Egypt. The pre- 
miums and prizes for work which we had given them 
from time to time enabled them to do this ; and our boat 
became heavily laden with the dates of the Ibreehmee 
and other southern luxuries. 

We found a steamer belonging to the Pasha at Assouan, 
which he had sent so far with Prince Albert of Prussia, 
who was now visiting Nubia, and we had here the luxury 
of reading some newspapers two months old, which were 



142 



CROCODILE-WORSHIP. 



to us as precious as when they lie on our breakfast-tables 
in London, still reeking from the press, and containing 
all the news which only started into existence a few hours 
before. 

Bacheefc and another inhabitant of these parts had 
obtained leave of absence from Philoe, and we now set 
forward on our Egyptian voyage with a diminished crew. 
We stopped about midnight to take in the absent men 
under a grove of the best date-trees in Egypt. It was 
bright moonlight, and we found our excellent pilot waiting 
for us, surrounded by his family. It was interesting to 
observe the affectionate partings of these poor people, and 
the old father held up his hands to bless his son, remain- 
ing in that attitude till our boat glided out of sight. We 
offered fifty piastres to the crew if they took us to Esneh 
by the following evening, and they accomplished the un- 
dertaking, having been thirty hours at the oars without 
a moment's respite, except for meals, and while we were 
visiting Koum Ombos and the quarries of Hadjar Silsili. 

The former is a noble relic of other times, and has still 
visible the tank wherein the sacred crocodile bathed, and 
the brick terrace on which he took his daily promenade. 
These Ombites were worshippers of this fishy beast; and 
a record survives of one of them, who was taken prisoner 
by the crocodile-haters of Dendera, and by them handed 
over, in a spirit of controversial irony, to his gods. It is 
unnecessary to add that these carnivorous deities con- 
ferred immediate immortality on their worshipper. The 
quarries of Hadjar Silsili afforded material for many of 
the cities along the Nile, and now they present an extra- 
ordinary appearance; hollowed out of the solid rock, there 
are squares as large as that of St. James's, streets as large 
as Pall Mall, and lanes and alleys without number; in 
short, you have here all the negative features of a town, 
if 1 may so speak; i.e., if a town be considered as a 
cameo, these quarries are a vast intaglio. 

One of our chameleons-^ died here of cold, the ther- 

* We had brought a couple of these beautiful little creatures from 
Dirr, in Nubia. They changed colour when frightened or angry, but 
only from their bright green into deep shades of brown : their helmet- 
shaped heads were of an exquisite blue. 



THE ARNAOUTS. 



143 



mometer having fallen to 85° in the shade; and his com- 
panion looked as if we were going too far with the 
experiment, as to whether they feed on air. It was not 
for want of food, however; for our cabin all day was in 
a haze of flies; and at night they lay in thick, black 
masses along all the cornices, encrusting them like moss. 

We had tried many devices to banish this plague by 
poison and smothering, but all the arts of a Brinvilliers 
would not induce them to touch the former, and they 
were too much accustomed to heat and stench to mind 
the latter. At length we circumvented them by a very 
simple means. As soon as they were settled for the night, 
a pan of charcoal was slowly moved round beneath them, 
till, stupified by the fumes of carbonic gas, they yielded 
up their lives to science, and fell, in a hissing hail, upon 
the burning coals. This sounds cruel, but we calculated 
on their being chloroformed previously to being grilled. 

We found, on awaking the day after leaving Assouan, 
that we had passed Edfou in the night-time, and (shall I 
confess it?) we were rather glad than otherwise. By this 
time we had been so be-templed and be-ruined, that we 
looked on a city of the Pharaohs with as much indifference 
as on a club-house in Pall Mall. This is a bold, perhaps 
a rash, confession : but, as this volume is a faithful record 
of impressions, I give them as they come, without selecting 
only the romantic or the dignified.*' 

On our arrival at Esneh, we found it in the possession 
of a regiment of ferocious Arnaouts, who carry terror and 
oppression wherever they appear. These soldiers, having 
done their work in Syria, proved rather too troublesome 
even for the Pasha's authority, and were now under orders 
for the interior, with the intention that they should never 
return : they knew that they were doomed men, and this 
consciousness increased their habitual ferocity. When we 
approached the town, we found a fleet of candjiahs moored 
to the shore, and numbers of the soldiery amusing them- 
selves, nominally, with shooting at pigeons, but, in reality, 
at any boat that ventured up or down the stream. Our 
flag protected us for the present, so we moored below the 

* We passed Eilethyas by accident ; it is one of the most interesting 
places on the river. See Egyptiaca, p. 92. 



144 



THE LICENCE OF WAR. 



town, and entered the town well armed. That morning 
these ruffians had murdered an uncomplying woman in the 
open street ; and .the corpses of her husband and brother, 
who had ventured to interfere, were still lying on the 
steaming ground. The friends of the slain appealed to 
the governor, who remonstrated with the colonel of those 
brigands. His only reply was, " What would you have 1 it 
is time of war, and the poor fellows must be allowed to 
amuse themselves. " 

These "poor fellows," as their well-matched leader 
called them, are little more than a band of robbers, whom 
the Pasha keeps in his service, as butchers do a ferocious 
dog, to let loose when they want to worry. They are 
nominally Albanians, but every man of any nation, who 
has so be-crimed himself as to have no country of his own, 
joins their desperate ranks, and assumes the white kilt 
and red cap that distinguish them. They were the most 
atrocious-looking band I ever beheld; the Spanish Chapel- 
gorri, the Italian brigand, the Irish landlord-killer, are all 
quakers compared with the meekest of this fierce corps. 
They differed widely from each other in colour, feature, 
and dress; the only uniformity observable among them 
consisting in their arms, their kilts, and their lost, wild, 
reckless look. 

We first visited the market and bazaars; the former 
was crowded with this fierce soldiery, drinking, singing, 
quarrelling, and firing off their bullets at random. Some 
were kissing each other with maudlin affection, some 
grasping each other's throats with curses; and one party 
was employed in slaughtering a huge ram, with whose 
blood they spattered themselves, and seemed to delight 
in his dying struggles. A few timid citizens hurried by, 
but no women or children were to be seen. 

We proceeded, after visiting the governor, to inspect 
what is called the temple, bat what is, in fact, a noble 
portico, consisting of twenty-four beautifully-sculptured 
columns of thirty-six feet in height, supporting a pon- 
derous roof equally rich in sculpture and hieroglyphics. 

This portico stands in the centre of the town, whose 
streets are on a level with its roof. We walked out of 
a labyrinth of mud lanes into one of the finest specimens 



KSNEE. 



145 



of architecture in the world. If the difference between the 
ancient and modern races be as great as that between their 
respective edifices, then the former must indeed have been 
the giants that the legends of the land would make them. 
This temple is carefully locked up, not for the sake of 
its antiquities, but because the Pasha, having excavated it 
for a corn depot, has set his seal upon it. As we left it, 
there were two young Arnaouts thundering at the door; 
and, as they threatened to break it open and shoot the 
porter, they were of course admitted. On leaving the 
town, we found a large party of these " free companions" 
seated round a camp fire, shouting, singing, smoking, and 
discharging fire-arms, whose bullets whistled about us 
more freely than was agreeable. 

There was something very picturesque, after all, about 
these ruffians, and I could not help lingering to contemplate 
this picture of human nature in its fearfullest form. Their 
lives are one succession of the wildest excitement: yet over 
all lay, perhaps unconsciously, the influence of a discipline, 
such as it was, that was now sending them unresistedly 
to encounter pestilence and privation in the depths of 
Africa. There were some very youthful, and even noble, 
countenances among their crew, and their dress is the 
most picturesque^possible. A red tarboosh, with a purple 
silk tassel, covers their long flowing locks, that stream 
down the shoulders like those of the cavaliers ; an em- 
broidered jacket of scarlet, or dark blue cloth ; a very 
voluminous white kilt, reaching to the knee ; greaves, or 
a sort of embroidered gaiters, upon their legs, and red 
slippers, constitute their dress. A brace of long pistols 
and a dagger are stuck in a large silken sash that girds 
their bodies ; a long silver-mounted musket is slung at 
their backs, and a curved sabre at their side. They have 
by-laws peculiar to their regiment, and they frequently 
shoot their officers, electing others in their stead ; when 
they went so far as to shoot their colonel, Mehemet Ali 
decimated them, and gave them a more severe com- 
mander : this having happened once or twice, they left off 
the practice. It may be supposed that troops like these 
are little adapted for garrison duty ; and it was in conse- 
quence of their lawlessness, and the complaints made 

L 



146 



THE AL3IE. 



against them 'by Europeans, that Mehemet Ali had sent 
them away to perish in the depths of Africa. 

When we reached our boat, we found all the crew, 
generally so anxious to rush into every town, cowering 
under the decks. We sailed at sunset, and shall never 
see the Esnean Sophia ! As, however, we saw numerous 
Alme elsewhere, I may as well introduce some account of 
them here. 

The Alme, or, in the plural, Awdlim, means literally 
'a learned female."* This epithet is only strictly appli- 
cable to the singing women, whose music is sometimes of 
a very high order, and their accomplishments in other 
respects so numerous, that they frequently obtain fifty 
guineas from a party for their exhibitions on one evening. 
The dancing girls belong to a very inferior order, and are 
termed Gavjdzee in the language of the country. These 
women used to have a settlement near Cairo, and attended 
all the marriage and other festivities of the beau monde 
there. The Moollahs, or Moslem divines, however, ob- 
jected to them ; not on account of their impropriety, but 
on the plea that the profane eyes of the " Infidel " ought 
not to gaze upon women of the true faith. There was 
such an agitation raised on this subject, that the priests 
prevailed, and all the Alme were sent, by way of banish- 
ment, to Esneh, five hundred miles up the river, where they 
are allowed a small stipend by government to keep them 
from starvation. This reformation in the capital produced 
frightful results, which I cannot allude to here, and 
Almeism still flourishes everywhere outside of the Cairene 
district. Sophia is said to be the leader of this tribe, who 
have laws, finance regulations, and peculiar blood among 
themselves, like the Gipsies. She was for some time in 
Abbas Pasha's hareem, whence she escaped, and, after 
many romantic vicissitudes, obtained immunity and free- 
dom from Mehemet Ali. She is now (1843) twenty-five 
years old, which is equivalent to at least fifty in our 
country ; yet she preserves her beauty of face and form 
almost undiminished, and even her agility and grace. 

The dance is the same with which their predecessors 
entertained the Pharaohs four thousand years ago, and 
* Lane. 



THE ALME. 



147 



almost every attitude we see here now is found upon the 
ancient tombs. It is an exercise rather of posture and 
acting than of agility, and requires long practice and 
considerable art to arrive at perfection. The professional 
dress is very picturesque and graceful, consisting of a 
short embroidered jacket fitting close, but open in front, 
long loose trousers of almost transparent silk, a cashmere 
shawl, wrapped round the loins, rather than the waist; 
and light elegant turbans of muslin, embroidered with 
gold. The hair flows in dark curls down the shoulders, 
and glitters with small gold coins; their eyes are deeply 
but delicately painted with kohl, which give them a very 
languishing expression, and a profusion of showy orna- 
ments glitters on their unveiled bosoms. 

When about to commence the oriental ballet, the Alme 
exchanges this for a yet lighter dress, throws off her slip- 
pers, and advances to the centre of the room with a slow 
step and undulating form, that keep accurate time to the 
music of the reed-pipe and the castanets, on which she is 
accompanied by her attendants. She then, after a glance 
round upon her audience, throws herself at once and 
entirely into the part she intends to act ; be it pensive, 
gay, or tragic, she seems to know no feeling but that of 
the passion she represents. In some cases, a whole 
romance is acted; an Arab girl, for instance, — she listens 
at the door of her tent for the sound of her lover's horse, 
she chides his delay; he comes, she expresses her delight; 
he sinks to sleep, she watches over, and dances round him; 
he departs, she is overwhelmed with grief. Generally, 
the representation is more simple; the "Wasp dance" is 
a favourite ballet of the latter class; the actress is standing 
musing in a pensive posture, when a wasp is supposed to 
fly into her bosom — her girdle — all about her; the music 
becomes rapid; she flies about in terror, darting her hand 
all over her person in pursuit of the insect, till she finds it 
was all a mistake; then smiling, she expresses her pleasure 
and her relief in dance. 

These dances are certainly not adapted for public exhi- 
bition in England, and would be considered as too expres- 
sive even at the Opera; but they display exquisite art ia 

L 2 



148 



HJEBE8. 



their fashion, and would surprise, if not please, the most 
fastidious critic of the coulisses. 



We had scarcely reached our boat when we saw the 
governor of Esneh coming after us ; he entreated us to 
drop down the river to a little distance, and then resigned 
himself to the delights of his pipe and our Maraschino. 
He said the English were the most ingenious people in the 
world to make such liquor (which, he thought, was 
brewed in London like Double X), and that the people 
who built Thebes were fools compared to the men who 
could make such a drink like this. He staid with us for 
about an hour, — to our great inconvenience ; and then 
departed with a bottle in his janissary's hands, and another 
within his own capacious girdle, that made him for the 
time indifferent to all the Arnaouts of Albania. 

We were now en route for mighty Thebes, and grudged 
even the hour that was devoted to an inspection of the 
beautiful temple of Herment, or Hermonthis. This was 
built by Cleopatra, in honour of her having given birth to 
Csesarion. It is richly adorned with painting and sculp- 
ture, containing every possible illustration of the Ci inte- 
resting event " it commemorates. Mehemet Ali has used 
this beautiful building as a granary for some time ; and 
its columns and entablatures have been forced into the 
more active service of life, in the shape of bridges and 
piers, in the same spirit in which the Pasha converted 
the indolent dervishes into soldiers. 

We moored off Gournou on the eastern bank of the 
river, towards evening, leaving the opposite side, with 
Luxor and Carnak, for the last. We were soon in the 
saddle, and, preceded by an Arab guide with a long spear, 
went cantering over the level plains, luxuriant with corn- 
fields, to the temple of Amnion, the Theban Jupiter : this 
building is about a mile from the river, and contained the 
Hall of Assembly of ancient Thebes. How curious it was, 
standing among those silent courts, to speculate on the 
species of eloquence which charmed or persuaded the 
listening crowds of three thousand years ago ! There was 
party spirit even then, no doubt, and place-hunting; where 
that spirit now is who shall presume to say? but perma- 



TOMBS OF THE KINGS. 



149 



nent places for the patriots have long since been found in 
the vast cemeteries that surround us. The front of this 
building is very perfect, and imposing from its simplicity 
and vast extent. Evening fell as we stood there; obscu- 
rity, like that which wraps its records, gathered round it; 
and we rode back to our tent by the light of stars, which 
scarcely enabled us to keep clear of the mummy-pits 
wherewith the plain was honeycombed. 

The next morning, at daybreak, we started for the 
Tombs of the Kings. I was mounted on a fine horse 
owned by the Sheikh of the village ; and the cool air of 
the morning, the rich prospect before us, and the cloudless 
sky, all conspired to impart life and pleasure to my relaxed 
and languid frame. I had been for a month almost con- 
fined to my pallet by illness; and now, mounted on a gal- 
lant barb, sweeping across the desert, with the mountain 
breezes breathing round me, I felt a glow of spirits and 
exhilaration of mind and body to which I had been long 
a stranger. For a couple of hours we continued along the 
plain, which was partially covered with wavy corn, but 
flecked widely, here and there, with desert tracts. Then 
we entered the gloomy mountain gorges, through which 
the Theban monarchs passed to their tombs. Our path 
lay through a narrow defile, between precipitous cliffs of 
rubble and calcareous strata, and some large boulders of 
coarse conglomerate lay strewn along this desolate valley, 
in which no living thing of earth or air ever met our 
view. The plains below may have been, perhaps, once 
swarming with life, and covered with palaces ; but the 
gloomy defiles we were now traversing must have ever 
been, as they now are, lonely, lifeless, desolate — a fit 
avenue to the tombs for which we were bound. 

After five or six miles' travel, our guide stopped at the 
base of one of the precipices, and laying his long spear 
against the rock, proceeded to light his torches. There 
was no entrance apparent at the distance of a few yards, 
nor was this great tomb betrayed to the outer world by 
any visible aperture, until discovered by Belzoni. This 
extraordinary man seems to have been one of the few who 
have hit off in life the lot for which Nature destined them. 
His sepulchral instincts might have been matter of envy 



150 



TOMBS OF THE KINGS, 



to the ghouls, with such unerring certainty did he guess 
at the places containing the embalmed corpses most 
worthy of his " body-snatching"' energies. 

We descended by a steep path into this tomb through 
a doorway covered with hieroglyphics, and entered a cor- 
ridor, that ran some hundred yards into the mountain. 
It was about twenty feet square, and painted throughout 
most elaborately in the manner of Raphael's Loggia at the 
Vatican, with little inferiority of skill or colouring. The 
doorways were richly ornamented with figures of a larger 
size, and over each was the winged globe, or a huge 
scarabaeus. In allusion probably to the wanderings of 
the freed spirit, almost all the larger emblems on these 
walls wore wings, however incompatible with their usual 
vocations ; boats, globes, fishes, and suns, all were winged. 
On one of the corridors there is an allegory of the pro- 
gress of the sun through the hours, painted with great 
detail : the God of Day sits in a boat (in compliment to 
the Nile, he lavs aside his chariot here), and steers through 
the hours of day and night, each of the latter being dis- 
tinguished by a star. The Nile in this, as in all other cir- 
cumstances of Egyptian life, figures as the most important 
element; even the blessed souls, for its sake, assume 
the form of fishes, and swim about with angelic fins in 
this River of Life. One gorgeous passage makes way into 
another more gorgeous still, until you arrive at a steep 
descent. At the base of this, perhaps four hundred feet 
from daylight, a doorway opens into a vaulted hall of 
noble proportions, whose gloom considerably increases its 
apparent size. Here the body of Osirei, father of Rameses 
the Second, was laid about 3200 years a^ro in the beau- 
tiful alabaster sarcophagus, which Belzoni drew from hence, 
the reward of his enterprize.* Its poor occupant, who had 
taken such pains to hide himself, was c; undone" for the 
amusement of a London conversazione. 

In Bruce's tomb we found paintings and excavations of 
a similar design; and in one of the numerous chambers. 

ling off the main passage, the two celebrated figures 
that have given this the name of the " Harper's Tomb. 

* The British Museum, it ; s said, offered him £12,000 for it. It 
is now in Sir John Soane's Museum, in Lincoln's Inn Fields. 



SEPULCHRAL FESTIVITIES. 



151 



In these there is a great deal of life, though the bodies 
are a mere bag; but the countenance is full of expression, 
and the bending arm seems to sweep the strings as grace- 
fully in this lonely tomb of three thousand years ago, as 
in the drawing-rooms of this year of grace, 1849. 

There are numerous other tombs all full of interest; but, 
as the reader, who is interested in such things, will consult 
higher authorities than mine, I shall only add, that the 
whole circumstance of ancient Egyptian life, with all its 
vicissitudes, may be read in pictures out of these extra- 
ordinary tombs, from the birth, through all the joys and 
sorrows of life, to the death ; the lamentation over the 
corpse, the enibaliner's operations, and, finally, the judg- 
ment and the immortality of the soul. In one instance, 
the Judge is measuring all man's good actions in a balance 
against a feather from an angel's wing; in another, a great 
serpent is being bound, head and foot, and cast into a pit; 
and there are many other proofs, equally convincing, of 
the knowledge that this mysterious people possessed of a 
future life and judgment. 

It was a merry day we passed among those tombs: we 
had not heard the sound of any European voice but our 
own for nearly two months, when, turning into one of 
these sepulchres, we met a large party exploring like our- 
selves. We invited them to " our tomb," where Mah- 
moud was preparing coffee, and, as their commissariat 
had been neglected, they were too happy to be our guests. 
Mahmoud was at first startled at the unexpected increase 
of our party, but soon set himself vigorously about pre- 
paring dinner for nine out of a luncheon for two. Our 
new acquaintances consisted of a handsome young Russian 
Prince, — an antiquary who was residing at Thebes, named 
Castellari, — a German traveller, two Italians, and two 
Frenchmen. 

Our servants had already made things comfortable in 
the charnel-house; a fire was lighted, carpets spread, and 
coffee was already diffusing its fragrance. Prince K.'"s 
wolf-skin, added to our carpets, afforded sitting-room for 
the whole party, who now gathered round in a circle, 
comparing their various impressions in as many different 
languages; German, French, Russian, Italian, Arabic, and 



English, babelled our sentiments m that singular conver- 
sazione. The noonday sun now kept the outward world 
to himself, while the tomb afforded us its friendly shelter 
before our time: many a pipe smoked incense to the 
spirits of the departed kings whose unconscious hospitality 
we were sharing in common with the bat, the scorpion, 
and the worm. 

About two o'clock our party broke np ; and, notwith- 
standing threats of coup de soleil and brain-fever, we set 
out once more on our adventures across the mountains: 
the sun was scorching hot, and his rays, reflected from the 
calcareous cliffs, poured down as in a focus upon our heads, 
while the hills excluded every breath of air. Nothing 
but the turban can stand this sort of sun-artillery with 
impunity; and to the defence which this afforded, our 
guides added cloaks, carpets, and whatever they could 
wrap round them. 

As we descended a steep path that would have puzzled 
a European goat, my horse put his foot on the breast of a 
mummy king,* not recognising its humanity; and this once 
reverenced corpse was trodden into fragments by the rest 
of the party. What a story that ghastly royal village told 
of ambition and fallen power, and its vanity ! A Pharaoh 
affording footing to an Arab horse, and trampled on by 
a stranger from the far north ! " Is this the man that made 
the earth tremble, that did shake kingdoms; — that made 
the world as a wilderness, and destroyed the cities thereof : 
that opened not the house of his prisoners?' 

u Is thy pride brought down to the grave, and the sound 
of thy viols ! Is the earth spread under thee, and doth the 
earthworm cover thee V '+ 

As we emerged from the mountains we came in sight 
of a vast plain, intersected by the Nile, and extending as 
far as the Arabian hills, a distance of about twenty miles. 
This plain was strewed with ruins of extinct cities and 
temples, appropriately intermingled with extensive ceme- 
teries, wherein now slept quietly their once busy popu- 
lations. 

Every one has heard of Thebes, but I suspect very few 

* These are royal cemeteries. 



- 



THEBES. 253 

have any distinct impressions on the subject; and when, 
in reading some travellers journal, they think that they 
have arrived at this long sought-for city, they find them- 
selves lost in accounts of Carnak, Luxor, Gournou, &c.,but 
no Thebes. Now I am free to confess that, after having 
twice visited these localities, I am myself yet ignorant of 
the site of this renowned Thebes, unless it be a little mud 
village, with which the environs of Luxor are bespattered. 
The epithet is, in fact, a noun of multitude singular, 
embracing at least five different localities, once, probably, 
forming part of the same great city — in this wise : — 

As we look down from these mountains, we discern, on 
our far right, the palace of Medinet Abou; before us 
the Memnonium; on our left, the temples of Gournou. 
Advanced some distance in front of these, stand, like 
videttes, the colossal statues of Shamy and Damy, or the 
vocal Memnon and his brother idol. Then a wide green 
plain, beyond which flows the Nile ; and farther still, on 
the Arabian side, Luxor raises its gigantic columns from 
the river's edge, and the propylae of Carnak tower afar off. 
And this vast view scarcely embraces Thebes. 

Descending from the mountains, we traversed the plain, 
which is everywhere excavated in search of antiquities, 
found here in such quantities that the Pasha has imposed 
a tax of 3,500 piastres a year on this subterranean harvest. 
Herds of wild dogs harbour in these excavations, and, as 
the stranger passes by, a thousand gaunt, wolfish-looking 
heads start out from their burrows, till the plain looks 
mottled with them, and a hungry howl runs along the 
ground for miles. 

We rode straight to Medinet Abou, which alone would 
make the fame of any other locality; but Carnak eclipses 
all other wonders here, and seems to rule alone. This 
palace, however, is very grand in architecture, and gor- 
geous with painting. It is very perfect, too, and a con- 
siderable number of chambers are uninjured, even in the 
second story. Its labyrinth of immense courts, magnifi- 
cently decorated; the innumerable pillars that everywhere 
rear their richly carved capitals, with or without cornices; 
the superb colonnades that surround the courts, all convey 
an idea of grandeur, before which every human creation, 



154 



MEMNON. 



except Carnak, dwarfs into insignificance. Many of these 
columns lie strewn about in such profusion, that Aladdin's 
genii might have , despaired of creating them, yet they 
measure six-and-thirty feet in circumference, and gleam 
like a cathedral's painted window with every colour in the 
rainbow, bright and vivid as if the sun shone through 
them.* 

It was late when we returned to our tents, and fourteen 
hours' exposure to the powerful sun of the Thebaid made 
us appreciate their shelter and repose. 

The next morning we started before sunrise to watch 
the effects of the first smile of Aurora upon her son 
Memnon ; he has long ceased to greet her coming with a 
song, but still, for tradition's sake, we wished to see the 
meeting. The brief twilight left us little time for a gallop 
of three miles, so we flung ourselves into the Turkish 
saddles, without waiting to change them for our own ; and 
passing by the pillared masses of the temple of Ammou, 
just visible through the morning mist, we stood under 
Memnon's colossal pedestal before the last stars had melted 
in the dawn. Alas! for the vanity of human plans and 
early rising, this was the only morning since we entered 
Egypt on which the sun refused to shine. Memnon him- 
self would have been puzzled, in his best days, to tell the 
moment when he rose. 

There are two statues here, of similar size and propor- 
tion, about twenty yards apart: they stand isolated at 
present, though once forming the commencement of an 
avenue of statues leading to a palace now level with the 
sands. The most celebrated of these two statues stands 
to the north; he is hewn out of a single mass of granite, 
and measures, though seated, about fifty feet in height, 
exclusive of his pedestal, which measures six feet more. 
His companion's figure and proportions are a facsimile of 
his own, but I think the rock of which the latter is formed 
is of sandstone. The granite of which Memnon is com- 
posed has a musical ring when struck, and it is said that 

* A large colony of Christians was established here, and celebrated 
their worship in the great court, having covered the idols with mud. 
They fled before the Arab invaders, but ruins of their towns still 
remain, 



MEMNONIUM. 



155 



the priests used to produce the sounds which astonished 
travellers in ancient times. Humboldt, however, in his 
South American travels, speaks of certain rocks on the 
river Orinoco, called by the natives " laxas musicas," 
which he heard yielding low thrilling tones of music, and 
accounted for it by the wind passing through the chinks, 
and agitating the spangles of mica into audible vibration. 

Whatever Memnon may have formerly done in the vocal 
line, much voice can scarcely be expected from him now, 
as his chest is gone, and replaced by loose stones. He 
fell down in the year 70 b. c, and was afterwards rebuilt. 
His pedestal is covered with Greek and other inscriptions, 
bearing testimony to his musical performances ; one of 
these records the visit of Adrian and his queen Sabina. 
This Memnon is a corruption of Miamun, " the beloved of 
Jove," and, in hieroglyphic history, is called Amunoph the 
third ; he reigned one hundred years before Sesostris, or 
1430 b. c. His colleague was probably the Danaus who 
led a colony into Greece, and founded the kingdom of 
Argos. 

From these statues to the Memnonium, as the palace 
and temple of Sesostris are called, is about half a mile. 
The magnificent hall of this temple is entered between 
two calm and contented-looking giants of rock, each 
twenty feet high. Within this hall was the library ! 
The ceiling is covered with astronomical figures, which 
reveal the date of the building, 1322 b. c. On one of the 
walls, Sesostris is represented as seated under the shadow 
of the Tree of Life, while gods inscribe his name upon 
its leaves. It is impossible to convey any idea of the 
extent and variety of all these ruins, or of the profusion 
of sculpture and painting which everywhere adorns them. 
A statue of Sesostris lies without the temple, in the 
position which he has occupied unmoved since Cambyses 
overthrew him ; the upper part of his body is broken into 
two or three vast fragments, and the lower is almost 
indistinguishable in its brokenness. The breadth of this 
enormous figure across the breast is twenty-three feet ; the 
whole was cut from a single block of granite, and polished 
as smooth as marble. 

These are the principal objects of interest on the Lybian 



156 LUXOR. 

side of the river : there are many others, which, however 
they may attract the traveller, would scarcely interest the 
reader. The valley of the Tombs of the Queens (who even 
in death preserved their propriety, by lying apart from the 
coarser sex); the grottoes of Koornat Murraee : and the 
temple (afterwards the church) of Dayr el Bahree — tell 
enough of their own stories in their names for our pur- 
pose. 

On returning to our boat, a curious rencontre took place 
on board a dahabieh that was conveying a lion from 
Abyssinia to the Pasha's menagerie at Cairo. Mr. M.'s 
servant had purchased a wild fox from one of the natives, 
and, being anxious to see if the lion would devour him, he 
threw him into the cage: Reynard was game, however, pat 
up his bristles, showed his teeth, and threatened hostilities; 
the lion howled with affright, and made such efforts to 
escape, that he very nearly upset the boat, to the great ire 
of the Rais, whose life might have paid forfeit for his 
prisoner's loss. He began to curse all the foxes and Chris- 
tians under the sun, together with their beards and those 
of their fathers : the gallant assailant was rescued and 
restored to liberty. 

Of Luxor I shall only observe that it forms a fitting 
approach to Carnak. It presents a splendid confusion of 
courts, columns, statues, ruins, and a lonely obelisk, whose 
companion was removed to Paris, and now flourishes on 
the " Place de la Concorde. " We found here the luxury 
of Arab horses, and rode along a wide plain covered with 
coarse grass, and varied by some gloomy little lakes and 
acacia shrubs, when, at the end of an hour, our guide reined 
in his horse, and pointed with his spear towards the south. 
There lay Carnak ! darkening a whole horizon with its 
portals, and pyramids, and palaces. We passed under a 
noble archway, and entered a long avenue of sphinxes: all 
their heads were broken off, but their pedestals remained 
unmoved since the time of Joseph. It must have been a 
noble sight in the palmy days of Thebes — that avenue of 
two hundred enormous statues, terminated by that temple. 
Yet this was only one of many : at least, seven others, 
with similar porticoes and archways, led from this stupen- 
dous edifice. We rode through half a mile of sphinxes, 



CARNAK, 157 

and then arrived at the temple, the splendour of which no 
words can describe. 

A glorious portal opened into a vast court, crowded with 
a perfect forest of the most magnificent columns, thirty-six 
feet in circumference, covered with hieroglyphics, and sur- 
mounted by capitals, all of different patterns, and richly 
painted. No two persons agree on the number of these 
apparently countless columns : some make it amount to 
134, others, 160 ; the central measure sixty-six feet in 
height, exclusive of the pedestals and abacus. Endless it 
would be to enter into details of this marvellous pile; suf- 
fice it to say, that the temple is about one mile and three 
quarters in circumference, the walls eighty feet high, and 
twenty-five feet thick ! 

With astonishment, and almost with awe, I rode on 
through labyrinths of courts, cloisters, and chambers, and 
only dismounted where a mass of masonry had lately fallen 
in, owing to its pillars having been removed to build the 
Pasha's powder manufactory. Among the infinite variety 
of objects of art that crowd this temple, the obelisks are 
not the least interesting, Those who have only seen them 
at Rome, or Paris, can form no conception of their effect 
where all around is in keeping with them. The eye follows 
upward the finely tapering shaft, till suddenly it seems, 
not to terminate, but to melt away and lose itself in the 
dazzling sunshine of its native skies. 

For hours I wandered eagerly and anxiously on, through 
apparently interminable variety, every moment encounter- 
ing something new, unheard of, and unthought of, until 
then. The very walls of outer enclosures were deeply 
sculptured with whole histories of great wars and triumphs, 
by figures that seemed to live again. In some places, these 
walls were poured down like an avalanche, not fallen : no 
mortar had been ever needed to connect the cliff-like 
masses of which they were composed : at this hour, the 
most ignorant mason might direct the replacing of every 
stone where it once towered, in propylon or gateway, so 
accurately was each fitted to the place it was destined to 
occupy. 

We rested for a long time on a fallen column, under 
a beautiful archway that commands a wide view of the 



158 



MAGNIFICENT RUINS. 



temple, and then slowly and lingeringly withdrew. The 
world contains nothing like it. 

We returned to Luxor by a different, yet similar, avenue 
of statues to that by which we had approached : as we 
proceeded, we could discover other pillars and portals far 
away upon the horizon, each marking where an entrance 
to this amazing temple once existed. 

From the desert or the river; from within, or from 
without; by sunshine, or by moonlight — however you con- 
template Carnak — appears the very aspect in which it 
shows to most advantage. And when this was all perfect; 
when its avenues opened in vista upon the noble temples 
and palaces of Sesostris, upon Gournou, Medinet Abou, 
and Luxor; when its courts were paced by gorgeous 
priestly pageants, and busy life swarmed on a river flow- 
ing between banks of palaces like those of Venice magni- 
fied a hundredfold — when all this was in its prime, no 
wonder that its fame spread even over the barbarian 
world, and found immortality in Homer's song. 

For many a day after I had seen it, and even to this 
hour, glimpses of Thebes mingle with my reveries and 
blend them with my dreams, as if that vision had 
daguerreotyped itself upon the brain, and left its impress 
there for ever. 



CHAPTER XV. 
DENDERA TO CAIRO. 

To glide adown old Nilus, where he threads 
Egypt and ^Ethiopia, from the steep 
Of utmost Axume, until he spreads, 
Like a calm flock of silver-fleeced sheep, 
His waters on the plain ; and crested heads 
Of cities and proud temples gleam amid. 
And many a vapour-belted pyramid. 

Witch of Atlas. — Shelley. 

We sailed away from Thebes one balmy evening, and 
soon the only testimony of its existence was in our me- 
mories, and in a young jackall, one of our exportations 



MUTINY. 



159 



thence ; this creature, true to its instinct, now began a 
series of mournful howlings, aud continued them without 
intermission throughout the night. 

Our crew, who had hitherto been paid extra for almost 
every day's work, began to wax very indolent when they 
had no longer the stimulus of bribery to induce exertion. 
We at first remonstrated with them, but in vain; we then 
insisted on leaving the worst of them behind us; and 
thereupon the remainder, with the exception of the pilot, 
broke out into regular mutiny. We had only ourselves 
to depend upon, as Mahmoud had taken fright, and Ab- 
dallah was a mere negation. We were in the loneliest 
part of the river, and far from any authority to which we 
could appeal ; so that we were reduced to the unpleasant 
necessity of taking the law into our hands. The men 
rested on their oars, and refused to move : the Eais 
affected not to hear; and Mahmoud said we must make 
the best terms we could come to : so while Russell stood 
garrison to our cabin fortress, I jumped forward among 
the crew, and, with the hippopotamus-thong whip, soon 
restored the rais to his hearing, and the crew to motion. 
Some took to their oars, others jumped up, and seemed 
inclined to show fight; but the eloquent mouths of our 
pistols dissuaded them, and added weight to an injunction 
to row if they valued their lives. This restored discipline 
at once, and they pulled with such hearty good-will that 
we reached Dendera that evening. 

On arriving there, we left the boat, to visit the temple, 
telling the rais he might sail away, if he dared; and then, 
leaving no firearms behind us, we started across a jungle- 
covered plain for the famous ruins that vindicated their 
sacred character by inducing the Indian troops under Sir 
David Baird to kneel down and pray before them. 

As, after bright sunshine, it is some time before our 
eyes recover their perception of objects in the shade, so, 
after Carnak, all other buildings appear divested of interest 
and grandeur, until our bigotry for the former subsides. 
Thus we found at Dendera, that though its appearence at 
any other time would have struck us as magnificent, 
demands on the sublime had been rendered so unconscion- 
able by Carnak, that we could not appreciate this beau- 



160 



KEN EH. 



tiful temple as it deserved. It is pronounced by critics to 
afford a lamentable proof of the decadence of architectural 
art under the Ptolemies ; but to the mere eye of curiosity 
its appearance is very majestic, and nothing can be more 
rich than the carvings and hieroglyphics that adorn the 
massive pillars crowned with heads of Tsis. The ceilings 
are covered with the celebrated astronomical paintings ; 
and the next most popular representation throughout this 
edifice seems to be that of serpents : these appear in every 
variety of form and attitude; some are walking on human 
legs, and some spinning erect upon their tails like cork- 
screws, while they present strange offerings to deities 
equally preposterous. We crawled upon our hands and 
knees through many dark passages, and emerged upon a 
terrace commanding a noble view. When the priests of 
old stood here, and looked upon that wide realm over 
which they held such unlimited influence, how little did 
tbey think of the coming time, when their faith should be 
forgotten or derided; and strangers, from a land unknown 
in their estimation of the world, should stand there alone ! 
The solitude all round us was profound; the sudden arrest 
of cultivation, when bordering the desert, was curious ; for 
there the high corn waved, and here the sands spread up 
to its very roots like a lake ; far away, the Nile glistened 
under the setting sun; and beyond, rose the smoke of 
Keneh, and the chain of hills that reaches to the shores of 
the Red Sea. 

We visited the Governor at Keneh, and having put an 
effectual stop to the mutiny, we darted away as rapidly 
as oars could drive us; nor, from that day forward, had we 
the slightest cause of complaint to find with our crew. 

The next day we reached Bellini, the starting-point 
for Abydus, where stands the temple of Sesostris, which I 
have described in ascending the river. There was a small 
garrison of cavalry here, with handsome, serviceable-look- 
ing horses. There was also a settlement of Alme. We 
saw herds of buffaloes in the river, that seemed to be 
playing at hippopotamus, keeping only their noses above 
the water. 

During several following days we killed a great num- 
ber of quails and a jackall, which I speared, after fair 



MANFALOOT. 



161 



duel, in his mountain den. Our remaining chameleon and 
the little jackal! died of the cold, which sometimes even 
we felt very severely in contrast to the weather within the 
Tropics. 

Arrived at Manfaloot, I went ashore to visit Dr. Dubray, 
a French physician, in the Pasha's service. It is not likely 
that these pages will ever reach his eyes, so that I the 
more willingly make mention of his kindness and dis- 
interested offices. He had charge of a regiment of Egyp- 
tian cuirassiers, mustering about eight hundred strong: 
the horses were at grass, but the men looked tolerably 
well drilled and appointed. 

This was a considerable town " in the time of the 
Mamelukes," an epoch which is made use of in this coun- 
try, as " before the Union " is in Ireland, to denote a period 
of prosperity that never existed. The encroachments of 
the Nile and the taxing officers have very much impaired 
the extent of Manfaloot, which does not now contain above 
five thousand inhabitants. The day we left Manfaloot, 
we fired at a great number of crocodiles with our usual 
lack of success in obtaining their scalps: and, after some 
days, only varied by such incidents as I have already 
noticed, we arrived at Cairo, exactly two months after we 
had started from thence. 

We remained only one day at the Hotel d'Orient, by 
far the best in Cairo; and then removed into lodgings, 
where alone one can enter into the spirit of Egyptian life. 
At an hotel, surrounded by Europeans, one is entirely 
secluded from those hourly opportunities of observation 
so entertaining to a traveller. We had taken a friendly 
leave of all our crew, and presented Bacheet with a pre- 
sent in addition to the gratuities expected by his com- 
rades. We were much pleased by the poor fellow bring- 
ing us, in a day or two afterwards, a present of the Ibree- 
mee dates, so prized by the Egyptians: it was all he had 
to offer. 

We took a house to ourselves in the Soog Ezallot, or 
"place of the evening market.'* As in Parisian bouses, 
the porter and his family occupying the ground-floor 
were handed over with the rest of the furniture. Having 
paid our rent in advance, we were then required to pay 

M 



162 



CAIRO LODGINGS. 



nearly as much more "for the possession of the key " 
which consisted of a piece of wood with some nails in it. 

Our mansion contained a courtyard, in which stood a 
sickly-looking palm-tree, crisped by the heat, and a couple 
of hencoops that wore almost as much appearance of 
vegetation. On the first floor were two sitting-rooms, con- 
sisting of high, vaulted chambers without doors, opening 
off a terrace, and two bedrooms. Above these were other 
rooms and terraces, shaded by trellised vines. It required 
but a short time to take an inventory of the furniture, 
which was particularly simple — it consisted of one deal 
table and two iron bedsteads. A broad wooden bench 
ran round the sitting rooms, on which we were to sit in 
state, or squat in comfort. This looked desolate enough 
at first ; but our camp-furniture, mats, carpets, and other 
appendages of Oriental travel, soon gave an appearance of 
comfort to the bleak dwelling and its forlorn walls. 

And yet there was a strange air of luxury over all this. 
The stone floors, and whitewashed walls, and curtainless 
windows, had always a golden glow of sunshine, or a deep, 
refreshing gloom flung over them. The vine-leaves threw 
a cool, quivering shade over the marble terraces : the fra- 
grant fumes of Latakeea mingled with the balmy air; and 
the coffee, which was always roasting, contributed its 
pleasant odour. Nubian lances, spears, and clubs, min- 
gled with European arms, glittered on the walls ; showy 
carpets and wild-beast skins covered the floor and the 
divans. A hyaena's hide bespread a table strewn with 
antiquities, and our boat-flags hung round as tapestry. 
Chibouques, yellow and red slippers, tarbooshes, sashes, 
and other Orientalisms, lay strewn about, and we at least 
accomplished what would have been a very comfortable 
drawing-room for Inkle and Yarico. 

A visitor (and we had numbers of all descriptions) 
enters ; and before his feet are unslippered and tucked 
beneath his gown on the divan, one servant presents him 
with coffee, and another with the pipe : by the time tho 
latter is finished, we are apparently on the most intimate 
terms. Whatever may have been in old times the pre- 
judices against Europeans, the Cairenes are both now 
anxious and willing to cultivate our acquaintance, and 



ENGLAND IN THE EAST. 



163 



express themselves with apparent frankness upon every 
subject. One soon gets tired, however, of people whose 
principal contribution to society is the smoke of their 
pipes ; whose every principle (if they have any) is so 
opposed to our own ; and whose information (if they 
choose to give any) is so little worth having. 

There is an evident expectation in the public mind of 
Cairo that England must, sooner or later, take a leading 
part in Egyptian politics ; and not only here, but all over 
the East, every tra veller, at all capable of conversing with 
the natives, constantly meets the question, " When are the 
English coming?" It would be difficult to trace the origin 
of this popular impression, which certainly has not arisen 
from any vapouring, political or private, on the part of 
the English. There are, moreover, no Englishmen in the 
Pasha's service, except the superintendent of the gardens 
at Rhoda, and of the sugar plantations in the Said • but 
Frenchmen abound in every department, from Suleiman 
Pasha * to the apothecaries' apprentices in the female sur- 
gery. It was Frenchmen who made Egypt a naval 
power ; it was a Frenchman who organized the army that 
all but overthrew the empire of Constantinople ; it was a 
Frenchman who made the magnificent docks at Alex- 
andria ; and the celebrated engineer, who controls the 
destinies of Egypt by means of acting upon the inun- 
dations of the Nile, is M. Linant. 

So it is, however, as every traveller will bear witness : 
England is expected in the East, where, hitherto, she has 
never planted a standard, except in defence of the 
Crescent, and the integrity of its dominions. That she 
will ever come forward to vindicate the Cross where her 
best and bravest blood was shed in its defence six hundred 
years ago, is very problematical; however, u Gold wins 
its way where angels might despair," and the interests 
of India may obtain what the Sepulchre of Christ has 
been denied. 

This is, perhaps, a delicate subject, and for the present 
we will waive it, and proceed with our parting view of 

Cairo. HjtA , gLyJL j£ |Lv j^Uvkl- \ 

* Colonel Seve, a French renegade, to whom are principally owing 
the improved tactics, discipline, and conquests of the Egyptian troops, 

"m 2 



164 



CAIRO. 



This is the most decorous and dissolute metropolis that 
the sun shines over. The women seem all secluded in the 
interior of the hareem, or in the no less impenetrable 
garments that conceal their persons and their faces in the 
street ; the men all wear the yet more baffling disguise of 
patriarchial appearance and stern formality. As you 
walk through these masquerading streets, among men 
whose thoughts appear abstracted from the earth; and 
women who are all veiled or in mourning, except their 
flashing eyes, you might imagine you beheld the people of 
Nineveh the day after they had repented. No Dead Sea 
fruit ever presented a more hypocritical exterior or a 
truer type. Enter into their houses, and inquire of their 
household gods ; listen to their familiar conversation, and 
study the complexion of their thoughts; mark the objects 
of their desire, their ambition, and their zeal: and you 
will at once see the necessity of such strict observance of 
appearances to cloak the tissue of sensuality and guilt 
that pervades the population of Egypt, In the streets 
perhaps there are none of the manifestations of vice too 
usual in European cities; but in the latter the moral filth 
is confined, principally at least, to sewers, which, foul as 
they may be. are only partial. Bat in Cairo the whole 
city is so inundated with uncleanness that these sewers are 
undistinguishable, and it would seem that the ocean that 
now wraps the Cities of the Plain could alone purify its 
polluted precincts. 

Cairo, nevertheless, affords to the traveller and the 
student many sources of entertainment and information : 
there is an excellent library, liberally open to all strangers, 
principally under the care of our consul, Mr. VTalne. 
There is also a literary institution, founded by Dr. Abbott 
and M. Priess, having in view not only a collection of 
literature connected with Egypt, but the publication from 
time to time of new discoveries and old MSS. Inthe former 
are held " weekly conversaziones," where the appearance of 
the guests is as various as the information to be obtained 
from their frank and ready courtesy. Pipes and coffee, 
nargilehs and sherbets, are handed round to turbans and 
tarbooshes, hats and grey hairs. Conversation flows freely 
and richly among men who seldom meet, and who 



SCHOOLS OF MEDICINE. 



165 



appreciate that meeting; all have something to communi- 
cate, and all have much to learn. Among the leaders of 
this society, I need only mention our distinguished country- 
men, Sir Gardner Wilkinson and Mr. Lane ; M. Linant 
and Clot Bey, and the more enlightened travellers who fill 
the numerous hotels. I must not omit allusion to the 
valuable Antiquarian Museum of Dr. Abbott, and the 
well-chosen collection of antiquities and natural history 
belonging to Clot Bey; both of which are most liberally 
open to the inspection of strangers. 

The public schools well deserve a visit : but, as they are 
the most praiseworthy of Mehemet Ali's numerous estab- 
lishments, I shall introduce them when speaking of his 
life and character. 

I have little to say of the mosques ; they considerably 
disappointed my expectation. There are four hundred in 
Cairo, and scarcely any village in Egypt is without one ; 
yet there are only three in all Nubia : to this latter cause 
the Moollahs attribute a tendency to drunkenness and 
other failings, not uncommon above the Cataract. These 
mosques consist generally of cloisters surrounding a square 
court, in which stands a fountain for ablutions; the sanc- 
tuary is always on the eastern side, towards Mecca ; the 
whole aspect of the building reminds one of a gutted ca- 
thedral. It is true that some are elaborately decorated 
with painting or sculpture of leaves and flowers : and 
friezes, consisting of verses from the Koran, are not unfre- 
quent; but, generally, nothing can be more naked and 
cheerless than the interior of a Moslem temple. It con- 
tains no furniture, except a pulpit, a few mats, and a 
number of small lamps suspended from the dome. When 
a mosque becomes old, it is considered irreverent to repair 
it ; it is therefore allowed to fall, and a new one occupies 
its place. Attached to the mosque of El Azhar is the 
university, in which the classic languages are unknown, 
science much neglected, and the students' minds are prin- 
cipally exercised by a vast quantity of Moslem theology. 

There are several hospitals and schools of medicine ; 
among the latter there is one devoted to educating female 
surgeons, a measure characteristic of the scruples of the 
country. The greater number of pupils are Abyssinians 



166 



THE PYRAMIDS. 



and negresses, who learn quickly, and pay great atten- 
tion to Mademoiselle Gault's lectures on medical science; 
that branch of it especially in which it may be supposed 
women are most personally interested, and in which they 
here practise exclusively. 

These are all dry details, which are uninteresting, I 
fear, to those who do not visit Cairo, and too meagre for 
those who do. I shall not allude to the Courts of Justice 
further than to repeat what I heard of them from natives 
and from Europeans, that the name is a melancholy irony 
applied to tribunals in which the unblushing bribery is 
only to be equalled by the profound ignorance of those 
who administer the laws. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

THE PYRAMIDS. 

Instead of useful works, like Nature great, 
Enormous, cruel wonders crushed the land. 

Anon. 

The Pyramids had become as familiar to our view as 
the Grampians to a Highlander, when we suddenly recol- 
lected that they still remained unexplored, while the 
days of our stay at Cairo were already numbered. Our 
donkeys, which stood at our door, from sunrise to sunset, 
were put into immediate requisition, and we started about 
four o'clock in the afternoon of the 11th of April. 

Mahmoud had a child's birth-day to celebrate: as he- 
assured us we should find comfortable lying among the 
tombs, and have no occasion for his services, we rashly 
believed him, and left him to his festivities. He was the 
best of dragomans, but an Egyptian still ; and we after- 
wards found cause to repent having trusted to him. 

"We sallied forth then from the " City of Victory," 
mounted on two donkeys ; Abdallah and another donkey 
preceded us, as servants always do in this paradoxical 
country, while a sumpter-mule and four Arabs brought up 



THE DESERT. 



167 



the procession. Arrived at the mouldering quays of Cairo 
Vecchia, we embarked our donkeys in a large ferry-boat, 
and passing the Nilometer on the island of Rhoda, we 
landed on the western bank of the river. 

The sun had just set in glory over the crimsoned sands 
of the Lybian desert, throwing the mountain pyramids 
into fine relief against the gilded sky. The plain which 
we traversed was riante as if it led to Paris : wide tracts 
of waving corn spread around, and an avenue of acacias con- 
cealed all of the distant city, except its minarets, and the 
silvery mist which rose amongst them. The air was very 
balmy, and the breeze, which had been exploring the 
Pyramids, seemed to be whispering its discoveries to the 
palm-trees and the ruins, which ever and anon, we came 
to and parsed by. Suddenly the rich verdure ceased like 
a shore, and the ocean-like desert received our silent steps, 
moving over its waves as noiselessly as ships upon the 
water. 

We killed, somewhat wantonly, two large silvery snakes, 
traversed some dreary glens, and surrounded by an im- 
mense number of Arabs, soon found ourselves at the foot 
of the rocky platform on which stands the Great Pyramid. 
This advantage of ground has been but little noticed by 
travellers, and yet it gives an elevation to the site of the 
Pyramids of at least forty feet above the surrounding plain. 

Vast as these Pyramids appear at a distance, they do 
not appear to increase in size as you approach ; but, when 
at length you arrive at their base and look up and around, 
you feel, verily, as it were, in an awful presence. 

After indulging in the course of reveries usual on such 
occasions, we proceeded in a practical spirit to examine 
the sepulchre that was to be our lodging for the night. 
The rocky platform I have alluded to is hollowed out 
towards the south into numerous tombs ; from these 
the unresisting dead have long been banished, but they 
still retain a charnel chill that must soon be fatal to any- 
thing except Egyptian fleas. While we were waiting for 
dinner, such swarms of animals came crawling and quiver- 
ing over us, that it gave the sensation of wearing a hair- 
shirt; but there is nothing like statistics — my companion 



168 



THE PYRAMIDS. 



slew fifty-seven vampyres in the few minutes that inter- 
vened between our ordering dinner, and its appearance. 

We did not remain long at a banquet in which we per- 
formed a passive as well as an active part, but hurried out 
to the Pyramids, accompanied only by live Bedouins, who 
had volunteered as guides. It was midnight when we 
stood under the greatest wonder of the world, and then it 
appeared in all its mountain magnificence, eclipsing half 
the sky. 

We climbed up some distance on the eastern front, 
when we found the narrow entrance, and then half slided 
down a long narrow passage, which was admirably fitted 
with grooves for wheels the whole way through. There 
seemed to me little doubt that a car was adapted to run 
down this inclined plane, to be carried by the momentum 
of its descent up a circular staircase, now broken, which 
leads to another downward passage. These steep and 
smooth passages we traversed with considerable difficulty, 
the torches and naked Bedouins rendering the heat and 
other annoyances excessive : at length we stood in the 
King's Chamber, in the heart of the Pyramid, lined 
throughout with polished granite, and now quite empty. 
The body of the king has hitherto escaped the researches 
of caliphs and antiquaries, but is supposed by Sir Gr. Wil- 
kinson to lie beneath a niche which he points out. 

As soon as we entered, the Bedouins set up a shout that 
made the Pyramid echo again through all its galleries, and 
then, turning rudely round, they demanded money. We 
put a fierce face on the matter, and began our difficult 
ascent with the assistance of the angry guides. When we 
emerged from the Pyramid, the Arabs turned round again, 
and declared that we should not stir a step until we gave 
them money : as I put my hands in my girdle, a gigantic 
Bedo-uin drew near to receive the expected tribute, and 
was not a little startled to feel the cold muzzle of a pistol 
at his breast instead; he fell back terrified, and humbly 
begged for pardon. Giving him a kick, and threatening 
him with the bastinado, we drove our guides before us to 
the other pyramids, which we wandered about in the 
bright moonlight; and then, after a glimpse at the Sphinx, 



THE PYRAMIDS. 



169 



and a shot or two at jackalls, returned to our abominable 
tomb. Here, stretched in our capotes upon the hard rock, 
we were soon asleep. 

By the first daylight we resumed our investigation of 
the Pyramids and the Sphinx. The latter is cut out of 
the solid rock, except the leonine paws, which are built 
of hewn stone. In front of this monster, and enclosed 
within her arms, is a paved court, about fifty feet in ex- 
tent, on which sacrifices were offered; and there was a 
sanctuary in her bosom (which sounds well) wherein the 
priests worshipped. This fantastic animal is " always 
found representing a king, the union of intellect and 
physical force;" it abounds in ancient Egypt, though never 
elsewhere in a form of such colossal dimensions as here. 
It is called by the Arabs " the father of terror," or " im- 
mensity." Its features, as well as its attitude, convey an 
impression of profound repose : the former are mutilated, 
and want a nose, but appear to be Egyptian in their cha- 
racter; though they are partially painted of a dirty red 
colour, and might pass for an exaggeration of the counte- 
nance of a pugilist after severe " punishing," some authors 
have traced in them an expression of the softest beauty 
and most winning grace. If it were so, the contrast of 
such loveliness with the colossal size, and its leonine body, 
must have produced a wonderful effect — Una and her 
Lion, or the zodiacal signs of Leo and Virgo, thus 
blended into one. Near her is an immense tomb, disco- 
vered by Colonel Vyse, containing a coffin of black basalt, 
which still remains; and a sarcophagus, which has been 
removed to the British Museum. 

Sir Gardner Wilkinson dates the building of the Pyra- 
mids about 2160 B.C., or six hundred and twenty-five 
years before the Exodus of the Israelites. Lord Lindsay 
ingeniously argues that they were built by the shepherd 
kings, who were expelled by Alisphragmuthosis, the Pha- 
roah of our Joseph. This would make their date about 
1900 B.C. Much has been said to contradict their having 
been used as sepulchres, and with some appearance of 
plausibility. If they ivere so used, they were doubtless 
connected also with the worship of the country, and may 
have been selected for the former purpose on account of 



170 



LEGENDS. 



their consecration, as we use Westminster Abbey. There 
seems little doubt that their form, which we find also at 
Benares and in Mexico, was meant to symbolize the cre- 
ative principle; as was the obelisk, though in a manner 
which we cannot here discuss. 

The erection of one of these Pyramids is ascribed to a 
Pharaonic princess of great beauty, who was one day 
taunted by her father with the inutility of the admiration 
that she excited. Pyramid-building was then the fashion 
in the family, and she vowed that she would leave behind 
her a monument of the power of her charms as perdurable 
as her august relations did of the power of their armies. 
The number of her lovers was increased by all those who 
were content to sacrifice their fortunes for her smiles. 
The Pyramid rose rapidly; with the frailty of its found- 
ress, the massive monument increased; her lovers were 
ruined, but the fair architect became immortal, and found 
celebrity long afterwards in Sappho's song. 

Another legend relates that a beautiful Greek girl, 
named Rhodope, was once bathing in the Nile, and the 
very birds of the air hovered round to gaze upon her 
beauty. An eagle, more enthusiastic than the rest, car- 
ried away one of her slippers in his talons : but, startled 
by a shout of Mernphian loyalty, he let fall the souvenir 
at the feet of Pharaoh, who was holding his court in the 
open air. It is needless to add how the Egyptian Cin- 
derella was sought, how found, how wooed, how won; and 
how she now sleeps within her Pyramid.* 

On our return to the tomb, we found the Sheikh of the 
village, who had heard of the robber like demands of the 
Arabs, and had brought his executioner to bastinado them. 
We refused, perhaps weakly, to permit this; and, distri- 
buting some small gratuities that made the whole tribe 
happy, we took our homeward way, shooting quails, as 
we passed through the corn fields. 

* The Great Pyramid covers eight acres, and is eight hundred feet 
in height, or one-third higher than the cross on St. Paul's. Each 
Pyramid appears to have stood in a square court, hewn from the rock, 
in which were small tombs, and perhaps temples. Far away as the 
eye can follow, a line of Pyramids of various dimensions succeeds, 
among wavy heaps of tombs and catacombs, that might seem to be a 
cemetery for the world. 



MODERN ALEXANDRIA. 



171 



We visited the island of Rhoda on our return to Cairo, 
and were very hospitably received by its superintendent 
Mr. Trail, who escorted us over Ibrahim Pashas extensive 
gardens : these are watered by innumerable little canals, 
filled from the river by the perpetual labour of sixty buf- 
faloes at the water-wheels. There are some fine orange 
and pomegranate groves here; English art has done its 
utmost to imitate a European garden, but in vain. 

The following day I left Cairo without regret, except in 
being obliged to part from my fellow-traveller, who 
returned to Europe, while my path lay eastward still. 
Henceforward, I pursued my pilgrimage alone, and ab- 
sence taught me still better to value the friend that I had 
lost : I have hitherto abstained as much as possible from 
introducing his name in these pages, feeling that I had no 
right to involve him in my published adventures. Neither 
is this a fit place to pronounce his eulogy ; but a tribute to 
intellect, courage, kindness, and considerateness, can never 
be misplaced ; and such I offer to the memory of Henry 
Russell.* 



CHAPTER XVII. 
MODERN ALEXANDRIA. 

Cette ville devait etre la capitals du monde. Elle est situee entre 
l'Asie et l'Europe, a portee des Indes et de FEurope. 

Napoleon. 

Having been baffled in my hopes of reaching Abyssinia, 
I had hastened my return to Cairo, intending to accom- 
pany the caravan of pilgrims some distance on their route 
towards Mecca, and then, branching off to Mount Sinai, to 
enter Palestine by way of Petra, and the eastern shores of 
the Dead Sea, if possible. However, I found the caravan 
had already left Cairo ; and the heats, which had now set 
in, added to my recent illness, rendered it impossible to 

* Would that this page were a worthier monument of my lost 
friend ! He died at Cairo, and was there buried, according to a wish 
he had often expressed, on the 20th January, 1847. 



172 



MODERN ALEXANDRIA. 



undergo a journey of forty day.? on dromedaries, so that I 
was forced to proceed to Syria by way of Alexandria and 
Bey rout. 

The day after I left Boulac the northerly wind came on 
to blow so heavily that we were obliged to moor under 
the shelter of the bank. When the gale had a little sub- 
sided. I landed to get some shooting as the boat proceeded 
slowly down the stream, and soon lost myself in the im- 
mense plain of wheat and Indian corn that bordered the 
river. I shot a considerable number of quails, and still 
wandered on; now. allured to the banks by a flight of wild 
fowl : now to the edge of the desert, by the tracks of a 
wild boar. Having thus consumed some hours. I found 
myself on the edge of a jungle, which, suddenly ceasing, 
left nothing but the desert and the river round me. The 
day Lad been intensely hot. and I was suddenly overtaken 
with extreme fatigue, and oblige! to lie down upon the 
sands to rest. Far as the eye could reach there was no 
shelter — no. not so much as a beetle could repose in : and 
the only Arab who accompanied me replied to my glance 
with a significant '' Mafeesh/' and a shrug of his shoulders. 
Even he was panting with exhaustion, and streaming at 
every pore. The boat was still far away, and we had 
nothing for it but Islam "'resignation'' — not even a pipe. 

Ana there ran the river — deep, bright, and cool — before 
my dazzled eyes; and. after long hesitation, I could resist 
no longer, but plunged in, and swam, and drank, and 
revelled in its waves with excessive luxury. Fever almost 
instantly came on. and I remember little but vague sensa- 
tions of dreamy but intense suffering, until we reached the 
Mahmoudieh canal : here I was transferred into another 
kandjiah. and reached Alexandria on the fourth night after 
my departure from Boulac.* 

* This journey is now (1S49; performed in twenty -four hours by 
steam. The transit across the desert is now a mere party of pleasure : 
and. before leaving Cairo. I had seen some ladies with reticules and 
lapdors into a well- appointed four-horse Suez mail, that would not 
have created much surprise in Piccadilly. There are comfortable 
resting-places twice on the route, and temporary establishments every 
ten miles : the entire distance of eighty-five miles is performed with- 
out fatigue by those who have made arrangements beforehand, and I 
never heard a complaint of any of the multifarious baggage of Indian 



HARBOUR. 



173 



Strange and African as Alexandria had appeared to me 
three months before, it now seemed familiar and almost 
European : the streets were thronged with men in hat?, 
and smooth chins; the cafes rustled with newspapers : the 
walls were placarded with announcements of the evening's 
opera; and, above all, the calm sea. reflecting many a 
British flag, lay smiling before me with its old familiar 
face. 

Mebemet Ali found Alexandria a nest of pirates ; he 
has made it the most important seaport in the Levant, and 
restored to commerce the Indian path that had been 
neglected for centuries. * 

" Alexander." said Xapoleon, " displayed his genius more 
in founding Alexandria, and in contemplating the trans- 
portation thither of his seat of empire, than by the most 
dazzling victories. The city ought to be the capital of the 
world ; it is situated between Asia and Africa, and connects 
Europe with the Indies. It is the only safe anchorage for 
rive hundred leagues of coast, extending from Tunis to 
Alexandretta; it is at one of the ancient mouths of the 
Nile. Ail the squadrons of the universe might find moor- 
ing? there, and in the old port are safe from storms and 
invasion." 

The Mole which protects this important harbour is ter- 
minated by a modern lighthouse, placed where the Pharos 
of the Ptolemies once stood. This now offers at once a 
warning and an invitation, a battery and a beacon. The 
western harbour is very deep and safe, but protected from 
the sea by a sunken reef of rocks that rise too near the 
surface to permit a first-rate line of battle-ship to pass over 
it without unloading her guns and heavy stores. The 
eastern harbour is exposed and unsafe, yet was the only 
port until recently allowed to Christian vessels. Mehemet 
Ali abolished this injurious and degrading prohibition — 

passengers being lost. On arriving at Cairo, a day or two is allowed 
to travellers to examine the city, and then they are forwarded to 
Alexandria by English steamers plying on the Nile, and the Mahmou- 
dieh canal. 

* The Venetians obtained a settlement here, and carried on their 
energetic commerce thence to India, but the discovery of the Cape of 
Good Hope passage left it again desolate. 



174 



MEHEMET ALL 



which had long afforded a proof of the extent to which our 
scruples with regard to Turkey permitted us to be bullied 
in the East. 

The population of Alexandria amounts to about 65,000 
souls, of which the crews, the workmen, the soldiers, and 
other immediate dependants of the Pasha, form one-third. 

Consuls of all the principal nations of Europe reside 
here, and, together with numerous wealthy merchants, 
might form a very extensive society. The influence of the 
habits or the climate of the country, however, seems to 
prohibit this, and there is little or no domestic intercourse 
among the European families resident here. The climate 
is the worst in Egypt, the neighbourhood the least interest- 
ing ; and nothing but business or duty can induce a resi- 
dence in a city that combines all the worst features of 
European and Asiatic life, with the least possible of their 
advantages. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 
MEHEMET ALL 

Ambition, like a torrent, ne'er looks back ; 
It is a swelling and the last affection 
A great mind can put off. It is a rebel 
Both to the soul and reason, and enforces 
All laws, all conscience ; tramples on Religion, 
And offers violence to Loyalty. 

Catiline — Ben Jons on. 

In Europe, the name of Mehemet Ali is familiar to 
every mind as one of the great powers that share the rule 
of this great world : we think of him, however, as seated on 
the throne of the Pharaohs and the Ptolemies; and seldom 
recur to the eventful and romantic career which shot him 
upward from the rank of a peasant to that of a prince. 
His great namesake,* and Cromwell, and Bernadotte, and 
Napoleon himself, accomplished less extraordinary and 

* Mahomet, Mehemet, and Mahmoud, are modifications of the 
same name. 



MEHEMET ALT. 



175 



unlooked-for enterprise of life than this Turk has done, 
although the distance and obscurity of the people over 
whom he attained empire render his deeds less dazzling 
to careless or indifferent observers. 

Like Mahomet, when he awoke from the dream of 
youth to the reality of manhood, he found himself in the 
depths of poverty ; like him, too, he married a wealthy 
widow, who was the foundress of his fortunes. — Unlike 
the Prophet, however, he had none of the prestige of 
ancient blood to buoy him up, and was indebted to him- 
self, and not to his ancestry, for his rise. 

Napoleon and Mehemet Ali came into the world in the 
same year of grace, 1769. * The same war opened to 
each an arena for his strength ; and widely differing as 
were the places and the people amongst whom they had 
to struggle for the mastery, there are strikingly similar 
events in the career of both. Each was an adventurer on 
a foreign soil ; each attained political, through military 
power ; each trampled fearlessly upon every prejudice 
that interfered with his progress ; and each converted 
the crisis that appeared to threaten him with ruin into 
the means of acquiring sovereignty. 

Mehemet Ali was born at Cavala, a small town in 
Roumelia, and is therefore a Turk, and not an Albanian, 
as was long supposed from his career being so much in- 
volved with Albanians. His father was poor, and united 
the occupation of a fisherman to that of a farmer: the 
former business proved more congenial to the boy, who 
early acquired a character for courage and conduct that 
invested him with great influence amongst his associates. 
Some pirates having made a foray into his neighbourhood, 
he hastily collected a body of volunteers, pursued the 
marauders in fishing-boats, recovered the spoil, and made 
himself a reputation in Cavala. This, in return, made 
him lieutenant to the governor, and au object of interest 
to the governors wife; both of these circumstances he 
turned to such good account, that, on the decease of his 

* $To Turk ever knows his own age with certainty ; but the Pasha 
of Egypt has freely adopted what French flattery suggested. It is 
unnecessary to remind the English reader that the same eventful year 
gave birth to the Duke of Wellington, 



170 



MEHEMET ALT. 



superior, he succeeded to his command, his widow, and 
his wealth. He then engaged extensively in the tobacco 
trade, for which his situation afforded him great facilities : 
bankruptcy or ambition induced him to abandon business ; 
and he eagerly embraced an offer to command a con- 
tingent of three hundred men raised at Cavala to recruit 
the Turkish army in Egypt. 

During the operations against the French, and parti- 
cularly at the battle of Aboukir, he distinguished himself 
conspicuously, acquired the rank of colonel, and obtained 
unbounded influence among the soldiery. When Egypt 
was evacuated by the French and British forces, the 
Mameluke Beys remained in arms, and endeavoured to 
set aside the power of the Porte by nominating a viceroy 
of their own selection. The soldiers — particularly the 
Albanian regiments in the Turkish service — had already 
shown symptoms of a mutinous spirit, and now loudly 
demanded their arrears of pay and a change of officers. 

Mehemet Ali knew well the strength of these soldiers 
and their wrongs, and also the weakness and inability of 
the Turkish general, Khosref Pasha : he therefore boldly 
declared himself the delegate of the soldiery, and a 
redresser of their grievances. Khosref Pasha sent to 
require his attendance at a council to be held at midnight; 
and Mehemet Ali received the invitation while attending* 
the evening parade. He well knew the purport of that 
message, and the deadly vengeance that suggested it; but 
he also read his own power in the Pasha's fears. " Out 
of the nettle, danger," he knew that he could " pluck the 
flower, safety:" smiling, he kissed the general's note, and 
returned for answer " that he would be sure to come:" 
then turning round to the soldiers on parade, he ex- 
claimed, "I am sent for by the Pasha, and you know 
what destiny awaits the advocate of your wrongs in a 
midnight audience: — I will go — but shall I go alone 1 ?" 
Four thousand swords flashed back the Albanian's answer, 
and their shout of fierce defiance gave Khosref Pasha 
warning to escape to the citadel ; there, it is unnecessary 
to say, he declined to receive his dangerous guest. 

" Now, then," said Mehemet Ali, " Cairo is for sale 
and the strongest sword will buy it." The Albanian 



MEHEMET ALL 



177 



applauded the pithy sentiment, and instantly proceeded 
to put it into execution by electing Mehemet Ali as their 
leader. He opened the gates of the city to the hostile 
Mamelukes, defeated Khosref Pasha, took him prisoner at 
Damietta, and was acknowledged as general of the army 
by the Beys, in gratitude for his services. 

Osman Bardissy and Elfy Bey were the leaders of the 
Mamelukes at this conjuncture, and became the deadliest 
rivals after the defeat of their common enemy, Khosref. 
Osman was in possession of the city, and nominally com- 
manded the Albanian troops ; but Mehemet Ali stimu- 
lated them to demand the arrears of pay ; while, at the 
same time, he stirred up the inhabitants of Cairo to resist 
the impositions which Osman laid upon them, in order to 
satisfy these demands. The Bey, unable to withstand 
this simultaneous resistance of the people and the soldiery, 
nought safety in flight; and Mehemet Ali, after some 
urther intrigues, named Kourschyd Pasha Viceroy of 
<gypt. He took upon himself this authority, with the 
uost submissive respect for the Porte, and in the same 
submissive spirit permitted himself to be made Kaimakam, 
the next highest in command. 

The Sultan confirmed these nominations ; and some 
time afterwards, when the intrigues of Mehemet Ali had 
induced the Sheikhs to name him Viceroy in place of 
Kourschyd Pasha, he also confirmed the latter appoint- 
ment. This extraordinary favour was obtained not only 
by the fear that the new Pasha had inspired, but also by 
a bribe of £300,000, which Mehemet Ali engaged to pay, 
and which the Porte knew that he alone was capable of 
raising. This took place in the year 1805. The following 
year, Osman Bardissy and Elfy Bey, his powerful Mame- 
luke opponents, died almost at the same time, and left 
him without an enemy, except the Porte, to fear. 

The Sultan, determined on turning his powerful vassal 
to some account, now ordered him to proceed into Arabia, 
on a campaign against the Wahabees. This powerful sect 
was founded by Sheikh Abd-el-Waham, in the middle of 
the last century, and was to Mahometanism very much 
what Puritanism was to the English Church. It also 
called the sword to the assistance of its faith, and took 

K 



178 



MEHEMET A LI. 



possession of the Holy Cities of Mecca and Medina, in 
1810. Encouraged by their success, these Puritans of the 
desert next turned their power to practical and profitable 
purposes — "sequestering" with impartial zeal the caravans 
of pious pilgrims and Nammon merchants, until they had 
acquired immense wealth, and rendered themselves inde- 
pendent masters of the Hedjaz. 

The commands of the Porte to exterminate this sect 
were intended to exhaust the resources of Mehemet Ali, 
and perhaps to lead to his destruction ; but he embraced 
the commission with gratitude. It gave him an oppor- 
tunity of rendering his name popular as a defender of 
Islam, and an excuse for raising a larger army, destined 
ultimately for higher purposes. Toussoon, the Viceroy's 
son, had been appointed a Pasha of two tails, and was to 
head the expedition ; but, before he departed on his mis- 
sion, the Mamelukes were sacrificed, as a hecatomb to the 
peace of the province. Invited to a conference, and en- 
trapped in the citadel, as I have before related, they were 
massacred almost to a man : this took place on the 1st of 
March, 1811; and, in the autumn of the same year, the 
expedition proceeded to its destination in Arabia. At 
first, the armies of the orthodox encountered some severe 
checks ; but the following year Medina was restored to 
the Porte, and, in 1812, Mehemet Ali proceeded in person 
to the Hedjaz ; partly to superintend the war, but prin- 
cipally, perhaps, to allow an opportunity for his celebrated 
appropriation of all Egypt to be announced by his minister, 
Mohammed Laz. 

The Porte, taking advantage of the absence of its 
Viceroy, with the treachery and meanness peculiar to the 
politics of the Divan, appointed a successor to Mehemet 
Ali in the person of Lateef Pasha. Treachery, however, 
has seldom failed to f nd its match in Egypt, and Lateef 
was beheaded by the lieutenant of him who was Viceroy 
in his own right. 

The Porte, at first, affected great indignation at this 
summary proceeding, and proclaimed Mehemet Ali an 
outlaw. He disregarded the er/thet and its consequences, 
accomplished his pilgrimage in the Holy Land he had 
rescued from the heretics, and returned to Egypt, covered 
with glory, to make further preparations for war. 



MEHEMET ALL 



179 



He had long seen the necessity of adopting European 
military tactics, and resolved to create an efficient army. 
The first attempt at drilling Moslems by Christian officers 
created such discontent that he was obliged to abandon 
the project ; but he sent the mutinous troops to conquer 
and die in the interior, when his son Ismail Pasha perished 
at Shendy>" His next attempt was to create an army of 
Blacks from among the conquered people of Sennaar and 
Cordofan : with this view, he instituted a Camp of Instruc- 
tion at Assouan, to which 30,000 Blacks were sent from 
the interior and subjected to military discipline under 
Colonel Seve, called in Egypt " Suleiman Pasha." This 
experiment was unsuccessful ; the Negroes died so rapidly 
that in a few years only one regiment remained from all 
this number. The Pasha then formed an Egyptian camp 
at Farshoot, to which native conscripts were gradually 
added, in proportion as the elder recruits had acquired 
sufficient discipline and esprit de corps to keep the younger 
in subjection. 

Whilst the senior portion of the Pasha's army was 
thus expiating its mutinous demonstrations in the wars of 
^Ethiopia, and the junior was learning obedience in the 
barracks at Farshoot — the insurrection of the Greeks 
broke out, and Mehemet Ali applied to be alio ved to sub- 
jugate the 3,Iorea for the Porte. This proposition at once 
restored him to Ottoman favour, and gave him an excuse 
for making new levies and raising fresh contributions among 
the people. All his energies were thenceforth employed 
in erecting barracks, schools of instruction, hospitals, and 
even factories. He invited French officers and instructors, 
who arrived in numbers ; and while he was concentrating 
a disciplined army at the capital, he was scattering manu- 
factories over the country. Every peasant might now be 
said to be in the Pasha's service, and Egypt was one vast 
camp, or factory. The Egyptian, who was not impressed 
as a soldier or a manufacturer, was obliged to work hard 
at the water-wheel or plough, in order to supply food and 
forage for the troops ; and the energies of the country 
were strained to the uttermost to meet this exigency of 
the Pasha's destiny. Had he now failed, or even fal- 
* See ante, p. 101. 

N 2 



180 



MEHEMET ALT. 



tered for a moment, he well knew that a successor 
and the bowstring would be the result. He struggled 
bravely on to find 'stakes for the great game of power — 
and he won it. 

The Porte gladly received his offers of assistance, a^d 
conveyed its acceptance of them in the form of a command 
to send an armament into Greece. 

In 1824, a powerful fleet, consisting of sixty-three sail, 
with one hundred transports, left Alexandria for the 
Morea, having on board 16,000 infantry and 700 cavalry, 
besides artillery. Ibrahim Pasha commanded this expe- 
dition ; he was successful in his descent on Candia, and 
partially so in his operations in Greece. The Egyptian 
fleet, however, was soon afterwards involved in the de- 
struction of that of Turkey at the battle of Navarino in 
1827, and Ibrahim returned with the remains of his army 
to Egypt. Previous to the Greek expedition, Mehemet 
Ali had been promised the Pashalic of all Syria, instead of 
which the Porte conferred upon him that of Candia — this 
island not having been included in the treaty for the inde- 
pendence of Greece. * 

He now devoted himself to the creation of a native 
fleet, and soon found himself in possession of a formidable 
naval force, with dockyards and arsenals capable of main- 
taining it, and supplying all its casualties. He knew 
that the Porte waited only for an opportunity to declare 
war against him, and he boldly flung down the gauntlet 
first. 

Abdallah, Pasha of Acre, had long been his enemy, and 
had lately given refuge to some Egyptian deserters, whose 
surrender was demanded by Mehemet Ali. This the 
Pasha refused, whereupon the viceroy informed him laco- 
nically, that "he would come and take them, with one 
besides." 

In 1831, Ibrahim Pasha led an army of 24,000 infantry 
and 4,000 cavalry against Acre, which he took after six 
months' siege, and sent Abdallah prisoner to Cairo. War 
was now openly declared between Mehemet Ali and the 

* It should in justice be mentioned that, while the Greeks suffered 
fearful persecution in all other parts of the Ottoman empire, they 
enjoyed perfect toleration in Egypt during the war. 



MEHEMET A LI. 



183 



Porte, and a numerous army belonging to the latter was 
defeated at Horns by Ibrahim Pasha, in 1832. Soon 
afterwards, the Egyptians routed the army of the grand 
vizier Hosseyn Pasha, at Beylan, which laid open to them 
the passes of Mount Taurus ; and, in the December of the 
same year, the victory of Koniah, with the capture of the 
Turkish general, Rescind Pasha, gave Ibrahim Pasha the 
command of Constantinople. Then the Porte awakened 
to a sense of its weakness, and, like the horse in the 
fable, invoking the assistance of man to expel the deer 
from his pasture, applied to Russia for protection. The 
Autocrat immediately marched 25,000 soldiers to Con- 
stantinople, and, whilst he protected the Ottoman empire 
from its enemy, wrung from it the treaty of Unkiar 
Skelessi for himself. 

In the hour of his success, Mehemet Ali had had the 
self-command to require only the Pashalic of Syria ; and, 
therefore, when Russia and the other great European 
powers interfered to prevent his further progress, he was 
able to fall back with dignity on his first demand. This 
was ultimately granted : the Taurus became the limits 
of Mehemet Ali's province ; and, in return, he engaged to 
pay the same tribute to the Porte that had hitherto been 
promised, rather than made good, by the petty Pashalics 
of Syria. 

Mehemet Ali had now almost succeeded in his project 
of restoring the bounds of the ancient Caliphat : Bagdad 
alone remain to be invaded, and from this, the conqueror 
of Syria prudently abstained ; he knew that his principal 
security consisted in his being nominally a dependant of 
the Porte ; and that the European powers would respect 
his territory only so long as it professedly belonged to the 
Sultan : that position once abandoned, one person had the 
same right, " of the strongest hand " to Egypt, that he or 
any other could lay claim to. 

The Sultan, who felt his disgraces rankling deeply, re- 
organized his army and refitted his fleet. The former was 
crushed at the battle of Nezib, in 1839, and the latter 
deserted to the Pasha. In speaking of Syria, I shall have 
to touch upon our brief but momentous campaign ; under- 
taken, not so much against Mehemet Ali, as to rescua 



182 



MEHEMET ALL 



Turkey from the protectorate of Russia, Meanwhile, the 
hereditary Pashalic of Egypt alone has been acceded to by 
Europe ; and the Pasha has nothing left from his Syrian 
campaigns except glory, and its cost — the impoverishment 
entailed upon his country.* 

We have thus seen Meheraet Ali, unaided but by his 
own daring and predominating genius, raising himself 
from the humblest rank of life to the very highest — 
creating an army for the purpose of opposing the enemies 
of the Faith, and thus rendering himself popular as its 
defender, while he was educating troops to oppose the 
vicegerent of the Prophet. There is little doubt that, but 
for the interference of Europe, he would have dictated his 
owu terms before the walls of Constantinople : although 
the faith of his followers was probably still too reverential 
towards the Sultan's sacred character to permit of his 
obtaining the throne. 

Menem et Ali is now f seventy-nine years of age. He 
wears well, and but little of decline is visible in the ener- 
gies of his mind or body, though his restlessness and love 
of change are remarkably increased. He is of low stature, 
not exceeding five feet three inches, but powerfully built ; 
and his keen, piercing eyes, and the energetic character of 
all his movements, indicate a sanguine and nervous tem- 
perament, Generally speaking, the Turks consider repose 
essential both to dignity and comfort ; but this man used 
to pace his apartments by the hour with the eager and 
determined tread characteristic of his disposition. His 
beard is snowy white, and though the lower part of his 
countenance is indicative of sensuality, his hue forehead 
and massive brows predominate over that expression so 
common in men of great physical energy. He has a deli- 
cate, well-born hand and foot ; his dress is of the simplest 
description, but well put on ; and his whole bearing is 
dignified, yet courteous and affable. In his conversation, 
there is a prompt frankness that appears to spring from a 
disdain of concealment, and an impetuosity that could not 
have been exceeded in his youth. 

* While we were at war with him, the Pasha forwarded the English 
mails with most civilized fidelity to India. 
+ This was written in 1848. 



MEHEMET ALL 



183 



Mehemet Ali had great aspirations, and of these he 
realized more than meaner minds could have believed" 
possible, considering the circumstances of his state, and of 
the country he rules over. One object of his romantic 
ambition was the regeneration of the mouldering Ottoman 
empire, and he even volunteered to abandon all his pros- 
pects in Egypt for the situation of Grand Vizier. Failing 
in this, he endeavoured to make of the despised Arabs a 
martial people ; of their exhausted and impoverished pro- 
vince, a fertile and manufacturing nation. Severe, but 
not cruel, he relentlessly swept from his path every oppo- 
nent of his power ; yet he was never known to cherish 
vengeance, or to punish for a personal offence towards 
himself. Enthusiastic to credulity, he eagerly listened to 
the golden promises of adventurers; and out of their many 
schemes of advantage he has realized the wealth of a cot- 
ton trade, olive plantations, sugar factories, and the more 
doubtful prosecution of other branches of industry. He 
abolished the power of punishing by death, until lately 
vested in the governor of provinces; he established a con- 
sistent system of taxation, which, though greatly abused 
by his officers, is tolerably just in its construction. He 
called in the aid of European skill to instruct his people, 
indifferent to the prejudices it raised against him; he tole- 
rated all religions, and discountenanced fanaticism. With 
regard to this latter, I may mention an anecdote illustra- 
tive of his character. Some Europeans attending his 
levee, he observed that his servants made use of the left 
hand, which is considered impure, in presenting coffee to 
his guests : while the Christians were present, he took no 
notice of an insult of which they were unconscious; but, 
immediately on their retiring, he sent for the servants, 
and thus addressed them : " As you seem to think your- 
selves dishonoured in paying due respect to my gtiests, 
you shall no longer run the risk of having your prejudices 
thus offended. Depart instantly for Mecca; there you 
may exercise without control the fanaticism that is pre- 
ferable in your eyes to good manners." They were 
banished. 

Under the stern rule of the Pasha, Egypt has become 
perfectly secure to the traveller, and even Syria still feels 



184 



MEHEMET ALT, 



the beneficial effect of his temporary rule. Besides liar* 
ing sent many Egyptians to study in England and France, 
the Pasha has invited instructors in every branch of science 
and of letters into Egypt. He established three classes of 
schools, under a ministry of public instruction: these con- 
sist of primary^ 'preparatory, and special schools. Of the 
first, there are sixty-six. containing each one hundred 
pupils, between the ages of eight and twelve. They 
attend during three years, and each year are renewed by 
one-third, as the former goes out. They learn the ele- 
ments of the Arab language and arithmetic. 

These primary schools send pupils to the two prepara- 
tory schools of Abouzabel and Alexandria, where they 
learn the Turkish language, mathematics, geography, and 
history. 

The special schools are intended for the engineers, artil- 
lery, cavalry, infantry, medicine, agriculture, foreign lan- 
guages, music, and the arts. There are altogether in 
Egypt nine thousand pupils, who are lodged, clothed, and 
fed at the Pasha's expense. 

Once entered as a pupil in any of these schools, the 
Egyptian becomes the property of the Pasha, and may be 
sent into his fleets, his armies, his manufactories, or even 
his kitchens, at his will.'* 1 Education, under these cir- 
cumstances, is considered by the natives as only one degree 
less to be dreaded than conscription. 

Egypt is the easiest country in the world to conquer; 
she is so used to it ! In fact, it is her ruler or rulers, for 
the time being, that offer the sole resistance she has ever 
made. All over the East, ami here especially, power has 
been established by blood alone : since the days of Cleo- 
patra, Egypt has never had a sovereign of Egyptian birth, 
nor have her people ever had a national cause; their lives 
are passed in one long effort to avoid taxation, which 
deprives them of every comfort; and conscription, which 
renders its victims hopeless : once ranged under the Cres- 
cent banner, there is no hope of freedom but from infirmity 
or death. Brilliant as have been Mehemet Ali's successes. 

* Some of hie chiefs having remonstrated against sending their 
sons to Europe for education, the Pasha yielded — and sent the boys to 
work as labourers at the barrage of the Nile. 



MEHE34ET Ail. 



185 



fertile as is the country he rules over, and peaceful as it 
appears to the grateful traveller, there is perhaps no more 
miserable nation under heaven. 

The Egyptians have no motive to action; success in life 
is with them impossible; and their voluptuous climate 
contributes to the enervation of all moral and physical 
energies. As their climate predisposes them to indolence 
and sensuality; their government to servility, meanness, 
and dissimulation; their religion to intolerance, pharisaic 
observances, and falsehood; it may easily be imagined 
that there is little in their education to counteract the 
tendencies which are inevitable from such influences. 
They have no country to lose, no independence to forfeit, 
no patriotic feelings to be wounded: their ^national con- 
dition has fearfully fulfilled the prophetic doom, that they 
should " be trodden under foot and abased; a nation that 
should ever be under the rule of foreigners/' The Vice- 
roy has exhausted the last vital energies of the country; 
and no government can retain influence in Egypt after his 
decease, that is not possessed of wealth enough to restore 
some chances of prosperity, and principle enough to restore 
some promise of independence to this degraded and un- 
happy land. 

Meanwhile, Cairo is now the crowded thoroughfare of 
England and India : our flag has become as familiar to 
the Arabs of the Ked Sea as to the people of Alexandria. 
Egypt is rapidly becoming influenced, not by the nation 
that gives officers to her armies, but by that which gives 
merchants to her counting-houses, and capital to her ex- 
hausted resources. She is becoming gradually and uncon- 
sciously subsidized by the wealth that England lavishes, 
and hourly more entangled in those golden chains from 
which no nation ever strove to loose itself. 

With what temper Mehemet Ali regards this state of 
things it would be vain to inquire. At his age a man is 
more likely to repose with complacency on what he has 
already accomplished, than to enter upon a new course of 
difficult, if not hopeless, undertakings. He had energy 
and moral courage enough to encounter the vicegerent of 
the Prophet in the field, and to vindicate the independence 
— not of his country, but of his command. Like Henry 



186 



MEHEMET ALL 



VIII., he converted the fat revenues of peaceful drones 
into the tough sinews of ambitious war; like Peter the 
Great, he made an army of steady soldiers out of slavish 
serfs, and a commanding navy out of a nest of pirates; 
like Sultan Mahmoud, he annihilated the Mamelukes, 
whose existence was more incompatible with his authority 
than was that of the Janissaries with the power of the 
Porte. 

Mehemet Ali has done all this, and thereby placed him 
self in the front rank of history. 

But there is a more difficult task than that of mustering 
forces in the field, or appropriating the property of the 
defenceless, or making massacre of imprisoned victims. 
To invest a nation with nationality — to give to popular 
impulse ike character of public opinion, was beyond his 
power, or never suggested itself to his ambition. What 
loyalty can exist towards a Pasha ? what patriotism in a 
Pashalic 1 The down-trodden and degraded Egyptian not 
only has never known another state of rule, but he has 
never felt the want of it; and herein is at once an element 
of strength and weakness in Mehemet Ali's position. The 
yielding soil afforded no resistance to the planting of his 
power, but at the same time it wanted all tenacity to 
retain, or enable it to take root. And now the Pasha's 
days must needs be drawing to a close; his son Ibrahim's 
life is little better, owing to his sensuality and intem- 
perance; Seyd Pasha, though kindly disposed, is deficient 
in genius, if not in intellect. The character of Abbas 
Pasha, the only other member of his family arrived at 
man's estate, affords little to hope, and everything to fear. 
And what is ultimately to become of Egypt 1 Is the 
Porte once more to extend its baleful authority over this 
unhappy country, with all the withering influence which 
it never ceases to exercise 1 Shall we replace the effete 
and fanatical creatures of the seraglio in the province 
which became a kingdom through their imbecility; and 
allow them to interrupt our commerce here, as they were 
so long permitted to arrest the building of our church at 
Jerusalem % — Heaven forbid ! 

For the natural history of Egypt, its Canals, Statistics, Commerce, 
and the route to India, the reader is referred to the Appendix. 



THE LEVANT. 



187 



CHAPTER XIX. 

THE LEVANT— BEYROUT. 

Thy shores are empires, changed in all save thee, 
ft^/y^jgvGreece, Egypt, Tyre, Assyria — where are they ? >y^LsCt 
~ Thy waters wasted them when they were free, L ". : 
And many a tyrant since. They^^w obey 
The stranger, slave or savage: — their decay 
- \ Gj Has dried up realms to n ation s — not so thou ; 
Unchangeable, save to thy wild waves' play ; 
Time writes no wrinkle on thine azure brow 
Such as creation's dawn beheld, thou rollest now ! 

Childe Harold. 

The "Levant" of the Italians, the "Orient" of the 
French, the " Morgenland" of the Germans, and the 
" Eothen" of Kinglake, are paraphrases of the "East." 
The former term is applied not only to the seas, but to the 
shores, over which the sun rises to the morningward of 
Malta. Bright and blue as it is, and fringed by the 
fairest and most memorial shores, it is yet a very lonely 
sea : wild winds that are almost typhoons sweep over 
it; iron coasts wrap it round: and, south of Cerigo, there 
is not a safe harbour in all its wide expanse, save that of 
Alexandria. 

The commerce of the early world found shelter in the 
ports of Tyre, Sidon, Acre, and other harbours, only fit for 
modern small craft, such as that of Scanderoon. These 
are now filled with the ruins of the palaces that once over- 
shadowed them; or closed up by ancient sands that might 
have run from the glass of old Time himself. 

The Levantine sea is seldom without a swell; and the 
wind, like a young child, is generally either troublesome 
or asleep; long calms, or changing, gusty breezes, render 
steamers especially valuable in these waters' and to their 
instrumentality was chiefly owing the success, so bold, 
rapid, and decisive, of our late naval operations on the 
coast of Syria; the paucity of passengers, however, and 
the decrease of trade between Egypt and Syria, have 



188 



THE EMMETJE. 



obliged the steamers to give way to a sailing-packet 
between Alexandria and Beyrouth 

I visited the admiral's flag-ship, and some other Egyptian 
men-of-war, and then pulled alongside the English schooner 
that was about to sail for Beyrout. She was in quaran- 
tine, as had been her case I believe for years, with the 
exception of a very few occasional days. Alexandria and 
Beyrout mutually vex one another with this restraint upon 
communication, more for political than sanatory reasons; 
and, as this luckless packet has two trips to make in each 
month, it may be supposed she is scarcely clear of one fort- 
night's quarantine, when she incurs another. How human 
nature can endure this perpetual imprisonment, under a 
broiling sun, in a coop of twenty feet wide, it is difficult to 
conceive. There is, moreover, almost always a swell at 
Alexandria, and generally a heavy sea at Beyrout, so 
that, even when at anchor, the little craft has as little rest 
as freedom. Yet her crew seemed as healthy and con- 
tented, and her officers as gentlemanly and good-tempered, 
as if she were the tranquil flag-ship at Portsmouth. 

The Blue-Peter was flying on board this restless bark, 
and the English mails transferred from the Oriental 
steamer, when I hurried on board with my voluminous 
luggage. A man accustomed only to travel about England, 
with his couple of portmanteaus and a dressing-case, has 
little idea of the appurtenances of an Oriental traveller, 
There are no hotels by the wayside on his journey : the 
natives never travel except from dire necessity, and then 
seldom change their clothes until arrived at their desti- 
nation : when night comes on, they lie down to sleep in 
the open air, or in some filthy khan. An Englishman, 
therefore, with any regard to cleanliness or comfort, is 
obliged to travel with an assortment of goods like those of 
an upholsterer, comprising every article his various 
exigencies may require, from a tent to a toasting-fork. 
He must have bed, bedding, and dressing-room ; a pantry, 
scullery, kitchen, and bakehouse, dangling on his camels : 
saddle, bridle, and water-bottles, arms of al kinds, carpets, 
mats, and lanterns ; besides a wardrobe that would serve 

* The Oriental Steam Packet Company have now placed a steamer 
on this station — an important event to travellers. 



OUR CRUISE. 



189 



for a green-room, containing all sorts of garments, from the 
British uniform to the Syrian turban, the Arab's kefiek, 
and the Greek capote. All these articles loaded a large 
boat to the water's edge, and took some time to transfer 
to the little packet, that lay pitching and straining at her 
anchor like an impatient steed that paws the ground. 

After months of indolent life in sultry Egypt, among 
screaming Arabs or jabbering dragomans, to rush away 
over the lively waves, and hear English voices, and watch 
the steady conduct of English sailors, is a most pleasant 
change. It was blowing very fresh as we ran out to sea, 
under a close-reefed mainsail, but the sun shone brightly, 
and the waves were of the purple colour that they wore to 
Homer's eyes; their foam flew from them in rainbow frag- 
ments, and the gallant little craft darted from wave to 
wave like the joyous seabirds that flew around her. Now 
she hovers for a moment on the watery precipice, now 
flings herself into the bosom of old Neptune, whose next 
throb sends her aloft again into the golden sunshine and 
the diamond spray, till the merry gale catches her drapery, 
and she plunges once more into the watery valleys as if at 
hide and seek with her invisible playfellow, the wind. 

Our passengers consisted of two English officers, a Swiss 
merchant, and two Italian travellers; these, with the cap- 
tain and lieutenant, made quite a crowd in the little cabin. 
They were all pleasant fellows, and our voyage savoured 
more of a cruise in a yacht than a passage in a packet. 
We never saw a sail, or caught sight of land, but now and 
then we had a glimpse of a dolphin, several flying-fish 
fluttered on board with their iridescent wings, and lay 
panting, but apparently quite contented, on the deck. 

On the fourth morning, the coast of Syria rose over the 
horizon; and the clearness of the atmosphere, together 
with the speed of our yacht bounding before a southerly 
gale, made the magnificent panorama of the Lebanon start 
into sight, and develope its complicated beauty, as if by 
magic. At sunrise, a faint wavy line announced our 
approach to land; at noon, we seemed in the very shadows 
of its mountains, and those mountains looked down upon 
the Holy Land ! 

For 1800 years, the Western world, in all its prospe- 



190 



THE CRUSADES. 



rous life and youthful energy, has looked with reverence 
and hope towards that hopeless and stricken but yet 
honoured Land. After ages of obscurity and oblivion 
as a mere province of a fallen empire, that country sud- 
denly became invested with a glory till then unknown to 
earth. A few poor fishermen went forth from those shores 
among the nations, and announced such tidings as changed 
their destiny for ever. Human life became an altered 
state; new motives, sympathies, and principles arose, new 
humanities became developed ; new hopes, no longer 
bounded by, but enlarging from the grave, animated our 
race. God had been amongst us, and spoken to us, as 
brethren, of our o-lorious inheritance. 

It was natural, perhaps, that this bright hope and faith 
should degenerate into enthusiasm — the means were con- 
founded with the end ; the land of Palestine became, as it 
were, a geographical object of idolatry, and pilgrims rushed 
to its shores in countless multitudes, in the hope of laying 
down the burden of their sins upon its sacred soil. 

The spirit of all Europe was warlike then; sometimes 
vainly struggling at home in instinctive endeavours to 
arrive at freedom; sometimes expatiating in any vague 
enterprise that promised exercise for its restless energy. 
The summons of the hermit Peter turned this spirit into a 
new channel, and the Cross became the emblem of devotion 
in the cause of chivalry, as well as of religion. That sum- 
mons rent asunder every tie of love, and home, and inte- 
rest : the warriors of England, France, and Austria, no 
longer knew a patriotism but for Palestine : no interest 
but for the Holy Sepulchre; no love but that of glory. 
Then rolled for centuries the tide of war from Europe upon 
Asia, baffled and beaten back, or perishing there fruitlessly 
like the rivers in its deserts, men learned at length that 
not by human means was glory to be restored to Palestine: 
its prosperity seemed still reseived into far times for the 
Children of the Promise. The Crescent shone triumph- 
antly over Calvary, and taught the Christian thai his 
faith was to be spiritual — its inspiration no longer to be 
sought on earth. 

This Holy Land, although no longer an object of bloody 
ambition, has lost none of the deep interest with which it 



THE LAZARETTO. 



191 



once inspired the most vehement crusader. The first im- 
pressions of childhood are connected with that scenery; and 
infant lips in England's prosperous homes pronounce with 
reverence the names of forlorn Jerusalem and Galilee. 
We still experience a sort of patriotism for Palestine, and 
feel that the scenes enacted here were performed for the 
whole family of man. Narrow as are its boundaries, we 
have all a share in the possession : what a church is to a 
city, Palestine is to the world. 

Phoenician fleets once covered these silent waters; wealthy 
cities once fringed those lonely shores; and, during three 
thousand years, War has led all the nations of the earth in 
terrible procession along those historic plains. Yet it is 
not mere history that thrills the pilgrim to the Holy Land 
with such feelings as no other spot on the wide earth in- 
spires; but the belief that on yonder earth the Creator 
once trod with human feet, bowed down with human suffer- 
ing, linked to humanity by the divinest sympathy — that 
of sorrow; bedewing our tombs with his tears, and conse- 
crating our world with his blood. Such thoughts will in- 
fluence the most thoughtless traveller on his first view of 
Palestine, and convert the most reckless wanderer into a 
pilgrim for the time : even the infidel, in his lonely and 
desecrated heart, must feel a reverence for the human cha- 
racter of one who lived and died like Him of Nazareth. 

And now we can recognise Sidon and Tyre : now the 
Pine Forest, and the garden-covered promontory ; and 
now we open the city of Beyrout, with its groves and dis- 
mantled towers, and the magnificent scenery that surrounds 
it. All reveries and abstractions speedily gave way to 
practical considerations the moment the anchor plunged 
into the water, and the sails came fluttering down. An 
officer from the Board of Health announced a quarantine 
of twelve days, but permitted us to take a cottage for our- 
selves, apart from the lazaretto. Here we were to be 
watched and guarded, like so many felons; yet still it was 
a reprieve from that great pest-house, the lazaretto, whose 
melancholy inmates we could see wandering to and fro 
upon their narrow rock. 

The next day we landed, and took possession of our 
cottage, which was prettily situated in a mulberry-grove ; 
my two countrymen shared my quarters; while the 



192 SYRIAN HOME. 

Italians and the Swiss took possession of a terrace on 
which they pitched their tent (with a hen-house in which 
they slept,) on the top of a cottage about a hundred yards 
from ours. 

The first sensation of change, from the incessant pitching 
of the schooner to the repose of shore, was very agree- 
able; from the perpetual glare of the sun -stricken sea, to 
the soft green of the mulberry groves; and from our mono- 
tonous life on board to all the gay variety of Syrian scenery 
and its picturesque people. 

Our cottage prison consists of a large apartment open to 
the north; from this, branch off three sleeping apartments 
and a kitchen; and over all are terraces of various altitudes, 
commanding splendid views of the city and the bay. The 
only article of furniture on the premises when we took pos- 
session was a plank, which served for a sofa near the 
window, in front of which was a little gallipot garden, that 
presented the only verdure within our reach : this speci- 
men of horticulture was tended with care by each succes- 
sive prisoner, who found in every weedy plant that it con- 
tained a Picciola. For the rest, our comforts were but few, 
even when we had nominally furnished our apartments 
from the city: my pallet was laid on the cold stone floor, and 
there was no glass to the windows, through which the noon- 
day sun and the midnight blast came pouring in unchecked. 

Being laid up with a severe wound, I bore our quarantine 
with great philosophy, and was never weary of contem- 
plating the novel scene of busy Syrian life around me. A 
large family occupied the lower part of our premises; and 
the small courtyard into which our window looked was 
^usy with all the little domestic incidents of daily life, in 
which I soon took as much interest as if I had been one of 
the family. I sympathized with the changes of weather 
that affected the operations of the silkworms; I grieved for 
the illness of the little child; I took as much interest in the 
attentions paid by the young Syrian swains to Katarin and 
Dudu as they did themselves; and a baking or a washing- 
day appeared to me full of importance. 

There was an old Maronite lady, with a costume as 
indistinguishable in its various wrappings as were her 
features in their wrinkles. She had three daughters, the 
eldest of whom was married to the man who farmed tho 



SYRIAN FAMILY. 



193 



orchard and the groves. This dame was very handsome 
and industrious, moreover, and, while she carried a 
sprawling, merry little imp at her open bosom, she was per- 
petually spinning silk on a spindle, and superintending the 
economy of her household. Her two sisters were also very 
handsome; indeed, in my eyes, so long accustomed to Egypt's 
dusky faces, they seemed beautiful : their large dark eyes 
were full of expression, but had none of that sensational 
look so universal in Egypt, or the mournfulness of those of 
Nubia : their complexion was not so dark as that of a 
thorough-bred Italian, and there was a rich glow of health 
and freshness in their sun-coloured cheeks. The married 
women wore an extraordinary ornament that seems peculiar 
to them and to the unicorn, consisting of a horn from one 
to two feet in length, projecting from the upper forehead: 
this ornament (confined strictly to matrons) is made of tin 
or silver, according to the wealth of the wearer; it rests 
upon a pad, and is never taken off, even at night. At a 
little distance it gives a majestic and imposing character 
to the figure, and a veil hangs gracefully from it, which 
can be gathered round the shoulders, and enshrines the 
wearer as in a tent. The virgins wore their hair floating 
in exuberant curls over their shoulders : their dress is in- 
describable by male lips : all I can say of it is, that it is 
very graceful and pretty, and lavishly open at the bosom. 
The men, Christians as well as Moslems, wore turbans, 
loose drawers tied at the knee, and silk waistcoats buttoned 
up to the neck. Over this was worn on Sundays and holy- 
days, a large, loose robe, which gave to groups a very pic- 
turesque, as to individuals a very dignified appearance. I 
shall speak of the occupations of this Syrian family as a 
type of most others. 

The household was astir at the first light; Eleesa, the 
comely matron, first gave liberty to the denizens of her 
poultry -yard, and then opened and shut more doors than 
I thought a village of such houses could contain. Then 
she called her pretty sisters, who seemed always loth to 
leave their beds: and then the screaming of children, the 
crowing of cocks, the lowing of cattle, and the woman- 
talk that ceased not thenceforth, announce that the day 
is fairly begun. Michaele is ingeniously ploughing the 

o 



194 



QUARANTINE LIFE. 



ground between tlie mulberry-trees with a beautiful little 
pair of milk- white oxen; Katarin and Dudu are picking 
mulberry-leaves for the silkworms; the old woman is 
crooning a low song, as she sits and spins in the early 
sunshine; and the little children are lisping Arabic re- 
i quests for bonbons and backsheesh ; a wayfarer diverges 
from the path to light his pipe, and refolds his turban as 
he recounts the news; then succeed other visitors, and all 
seem welcome, and all squat on the ground, and none 
derange the business that is going on. About noon, the 
family assembles for a repast of bread and clotted milk, 
and cucumbers and celery, and some sort of thin soup 
redolent of tomatos: and then they loiter about in the 
pleasant shade, and laugh, and enjoy the mere conscious- 
ness of living; and the matron smokes her nargileh,* 
and the man his chibouque, and then they disperse again 
to their light labours, until sunset restores them to their 
leisure and their supper. Then come some men of various 
ages, and gaily-dressed girls from the city, each sex 
arriving apart, and only joining company in presence of 
their mutual friends ; or a priest perhaps pays a friendly 
visit with his dark robes and black turban ; and the 
simple and social people continue in animated talk until 
the muezzin's call from the minarets announces the hour 
of prayer to the Moslem, and of retirement to these 
Christians. 

Our quarantine lasted fourteen days, after which the 
surgeon of the Lazaretto and some health-officers came to 
inspect us, and declared us free. I confess I was almost 
sorry to leave our cottage and my fair friends below, 
with and without horns ; yet, as I stepped into the boat 
which was to transport me across the bay, I felt the 
elasticity of restored freedom compensate for everything, 
even for its privation. Merrily we swept across that 
beautiful bay. The picturesque town sent forth its voices 
faintly on the water ; boats shot backwards and forwards 
to the shipping, pulled by turbaned and bearded men; 
and, here and there, a solitary fisherman exercising his 
silent but absorbing skill upon parrot-coloured fish. 

We landed about a mile beyond the town, on soma 
• Water-pipe. 



SYRIAN SCENERY. 



195 



rocks that were nearly level with the tideless sea, and 
showed numerous traces of the ancient city of Berytus. 
I had taken apartments in a house belonging to a Maltese, 
named Antonio Bianchi. whose present establishment I 
can safely recommend to travellers. He then lived in 
an old-fashioned Syrian house, surrounded by mulberry 
gardens, which were intersected by paths fenced off by 
impenetrable barriers of the cactus, or Indian fig. This 
plant abounds everywhere, and not only protects but 
shadows all the lanes, commonly attaining to the height 
of twelve or eighteen feet. 

After a few days' residence with Bianchi, I removed to 
a cottage nearer to the sea, and farther from the town. 
It belonged to Antonio Tremseni, a Maltese, who had 
once been waiter at the Travellers' Club, in London, and 
who now conducted my simple menage with as much 
neatness and elegance as if my dining-room looked out 
upon Pall Mall. Far different, however, was the view : 
that which I now beheld is perhaps the finest in the 
world. 

Come out to the terrace, whereon a tent is pitched, 
and rest upon soft carpets in its shade; while Tremseni 
lights your chibouque, and Raswan offers you a cup of 
Mocha coffee perfumed with ambergris. 

Now we can contemplate the prospect in pleasant 
leisure, whilst our eye ranges like an eagle over earth, 
and sea, and sky. 

From the rich gardens all round us rise numbers of 
cottages; and, as the sun is low, their gaily dressed inha- 
bitants come forth on the flat roofs to breathe the cool 
breezes, and enjoy their pipes and coffee. There is a 
joyous, an almost festive look in all around us; the acacia 
blossoms are dancing in the breeze, the palms are waving 
salutations, and the flowers are flirting with one another 
in blushes and perfumed whisperings : the faint plash of 
the wave is echoed from the rocks; the hum of the 
distant city is broken by the rattle of the drum, and 
pierced by the fife with its wild Turkish music: flocks of 
pigeons rustle through the air, and to their cooing the 
woodpecker keeps time like a cast an et, while the sea- 
birds scream an occasional accompaniment. 

o 2 



106 



NAHR EL KELB*. 



To the north, the Mediterranean spreads away to the 
horizon, blue and unbroken as the heavens that overarch 
it; and its bosom, too. is varied with its own light clouds 
of foam. Beneath us. in the offing, a proud English 
frigate and some French and Austrian men-of-war lie at 
anchor, dark and grim, like watch-dogs over the white- 
sailed flock of merchantmen, that lie nearer to the shore. 
The bay is bordered to the right by the magnificent array 
of the Lebanon mountains, rising from the sea, in which 
their various hills, glens, and even crag-perched villages, 
are reflected. Each of those acclivities has a little tract 
of richly-coloured vegetation hanging from its shoulders 
like a tartan cloak, and wears a fortress fur its crown: 
from the golden sands below, to the snowy tracts above, 
the Druse and Maronite districts may be traced as on a 
map. Nearer, and in front of us. appears the thin smoke 
of the city, surrounded by such of the picturesquely- 
ruined castles and fortifications as the British artillery 
has spared: encampments of green and yellow tents speck 
the ground at intervals amongst the groves. The consular 
flags of Europe are gaily fluttering over the flat-roofed 
town within, whose monotony is diversified with tower, 
and mosque, and minaret. Around us. upon gentle slopes, 
and many terraces, are groves of the fig-tree, the ilex, 
and the sycamore. Here and there, a small palm-tree 
waves its plumy head; hedges of flowering cactu-. with 
their fat, fantastic leaves, enclose gardens of small mul- 
berry and pomegranate trees, olives, melons, and cucum- 
bers. The water's edge flings a creamy foam upon black 
rocks, frequently showing traces of edifices of the ancient 
city that have long since crumbled into gravel, And 
over all this is spread a chameleon sky. shot with every 
conceivable colour, that seems as if Iris were weaving 
some gorgeous canopy for sunset, so rapidly do the 
colours, which are her web and woof, come and go. 

About this time. I was agreeably surprised by a visit 
from Prince K.. whom I had met in the Tombs of Thebes. 
He was knocked up by his journey, and I was still unable 
to ride; so I took him in my boat to the " Nahr el Kelb. T ' 
or Dog River ; a stream that issues from a picturesque 
ravine about nine miles from Bejrout, on the road to 



NAHK EL KELB. 



197 



Tripoli. The sea ran high, and the wind was as much as 
our little craft eould stagger under as we ran along in the 
shadow of the Lebanon. On rounding a bold headland, 
a new scene disclosed itself: a deep valley opened in the 
very heart of the mountains, and from its green and 
pleasant gloom the bright little river we were in search of 
gleamed suddenly into light; the steep hills that formed 
its banks were covered with dark shrubs below and grey 
crags above, and crowned with a Maronite convent. A 
beautiful ruined aqueduct, tapestried with ivy and flower- 
ing parasites, ran along the base of the mountain ; and a 
picturesque old bridge, shaped like a chevron, terminated 
the view; on the shore stood a khan, that rather re- 
sembled a bower, so thickly was it covered with vines 
and shaded by trees. 

The entrance to this fairy spot was guarded from the 
angry sea by masses of black rocks, which have given 
name to the Dog River: the heavy surf beat out its 
purple masses into broad sheets of foam upon the beach, 
and there appeared to be no possibility of entering that 
secluded glen. For a few moments we lay-to, waiting 
for a "seventh wave; 5 ' then out flew the oars, and, 
bowered in spray, upheaved upon a mountain-billow, we 
bounded over the bar — floating by a sudden and strange 
transition into the calm river out of the stormy sea. 

We found here some officers of the Vernon, who had 
ridden round to meet us; their carpet was spread under 
the shade of spreading sycamores, and we were soon 
reposing upon it in placid enjoyment of our chibouques, 
while the Syrian servants bustled about, making prepa- 
ration for the banquet. The horses were tethered in the 
shade, and our little boat lay moored by the silvery 
beach, over which a mountain cascade skipped, and 
laughed in concert with ourselves. 

We dined merrily together on kid from the mountain, 
and omelettes made with herbs that grew wild about us ; 
the wine was cooled in the cascade, and the coffee mingled 
its pleasant perfume with that of the aromatic shrubs on 
which it was boiling. Pipes, coffee, mountain-breezes, 
wild flowers' scents, superb scenery, sparkling torrents, 
neighing horses, the sea's deep roar, and a joyous party, 



198 



SYRIAN SCENERY. 



made us think that the monks of the neighbouring con- 
vent might have pleasant times of it, after all, notwith- 
standing this Eden of theirs was Eveless. 

This was the site of the ancient Lycopolis, or Wolf- 
city : there are few or no remains of it except the aque- 
duct, and the name, degenerated as it is, into its canine 
appellation. On the rocks, however, that line the steep 
pathway, are some very curious figures and inscriptions, 
purporting that the warlike array of the Egyptians, 
Persians, and Romans, had in their turn passed by : Sesos- 
tris, Cambyses, and Aurelian, had been before us. 

Another day, I went to dine at some distance from 
Beyrout, with a British officer of distinguished birth and 
gallantry, who has married a Maronite lady of great 
beauty, and settled in her country. After an hour s 
gallop over the rocky promontory on which Beyrout is 
situated, through lanes of cactus and gardens alternating 
with sandy tracts and groups of pine-trees, I arrived at a 
picturesque cottage, commanding a noble view of the 
Lebanon. I was sitting on the divan with my courteous 
host, smoking our chibouques, and talking about England, 
when his bride entered, dressed in her beautiful Arabian 
costume and still more beautiful smiles : I no longer won- 
dered that he had abandoned his career, fame, fortune — 
every thing — in such a cause. After dinner, which was 
dressed and served in Arab style, we adjourned to take 
our pipe and coffee on the house-top, where we passed a 
most pleasant hour. 

The sun was setting in great glory on the sea, bathing 
the Lebanon in a flood of golden light like that of 
Raphael's Transfiguration. On each side of the peninsula 
on which we stood, two fine bays swept gracefully away 
to the right and left, till the eye reached Tripoli on the 
north, and Tyre on the south. Every glance flung over 
that sacred region brought back a thousand associations 
that might have suited well with such an hour, but the 
beautiful Present absorbed the Past, and we had then no 
thought but for what fell upon the eye or ear. The soft 
evening hour had brought out each Syrian family to their 
house-tops, and the gardens round were thickly inhabited; 
from every terraced roof rose the faint clouds of the 



tfil'LE OF TRAVL.ii, 



chibouque; blue, red, and purple dresses glittered on 
every group that was gathered round us, with the veil- 
enfolded horns of the matrons, or the black tresses of the 
maidens sparkling with golden coins. And the music of 
merry voices was heard from far and near, with some- 
times a strain of song, or the tinkle of a guitar; the sea 
made its own solemn music on the distant shore, and 
the whole scene was one of perfect harmony, and peace, 
and beauty. 

At Beyrout, however happily situated, I was only on 
the borders of the Holy Land, and considered every day 
lost that was deducted from my progress in the interior. 
On the 26th of May, I started for Jerusalem. It is the 
invariable practice in the East to make but a short 
journey the first day, encamping near the city, in order 
to supply the omission of any of the voluminous requisites 
of a style of travelling in which you carry your hotel 
with you. Being in light marching order, my little 
caravan consisted only of two luggage horses, besides my 
own animals: on one of these rode the muleteer with a 
faggot of pistols and daggers stuck in his capacious belt : 
his costume consisted of a red cap wrapped round with a 
Damascus shawl, a pair of petticoat trowsers, red slippers, 
and a faded jacket covered with still more faded embroi- 
dery. The first horse carried the tent on one side, the 
canteen and cooking-apparatus on the other, and some 
portmanteaus in the middle f the second was covered with 
mats, cloaks, carpets, leathern water-bottles, and Yussef, 
the muleteer. My servant, a young Syrian Christian, 
was very handsome and dandified in proportion, with a 
dress resembling that of the muleteer, only of more 
elegant fashion and gaudier colours : he carried a brace 
of pistols on the high pommel of his Turkish saddle, a 
formidable sabre by his side, and my gun slung over his 
shoulder. A spare turban for great occasions, and a 
change of such linen as he could carry in his pocket, 
were his only luggage, besides those unfailing concomitants, 
arms and a water-beetle. These men were my only com- 
panions for many weeks upon the road, except when a 
timid merchant or a wild Bedouin joined suspicious com- 
pany for a mile or two, or a khan afforded a gossip and 



200 



BEYROUT. 



coffee for half an hour. I must not omit to mention, in 
the list of my companions, a docile Arab horse, the most 
useful, indefatigable, and only uncomplaining one amongst 
them all : I purchased him soon after my arrival in Syria.; 
he had become as familiar as a dog during my stay at 
Beyrout, and when I was obliged to leave him invalided 
at Jerusalem, I felt as if I was parting with a tried old 
friend. All the other horses were hired, and their forage 
provided by their owner, whe generally made use of 
whatever fields we happened to encamp near for the 
purpose. He was a patient, good-tempered fellow, and 
preserved that character for strict honesty so peculiar to 
his class, amongst a nation of thieves. It is a curious 
principle in human nature, that men are generally more 
true to their collective than to their individual respon- 
sibility. Remove a disorderly soldier to a well-disciplined 
regiment, and he becomes exemplary — convert a gossiping 
Venetian into a gondolier, and he becomes discreet— 
promote a thievish Arab into a muleteers place, and he 
will straightway become an honest man. 

Our way led along a narrow pathway, bordering on the 
sea as far as Beyrout, which we entered under a fortified 
gate where Turkish sentries were posted. The town itself 
is a confused labyrinth of lanes and alleys, that sometimes 
expand into a market-place, or at least some space wide 
enough to afford passage for two abreast. Towards the 
sea there are several cafes open in front, filled with sailors, 
Arnaouts, Turks, and a few Syrians of the lower classes. 
There are also some mercantile houses here, whose clerks, 
bales of merchandize, and handbarrows, impart something 
of an European air to the quays. The streets are steep 
and ill-paved, or covered with flags, that afford uncertain 
footing even to an Arab horse. A strong-looking wall 
with battlements surrounds the town, and about 10,000 
inhabitants. 

Beyrout is situated on the isthmus of a finely-undulated 
promontory: and, in the valley that lies between that 
promontory and the mountains, spreads one of the richest 
and most varied tracts of verdure in the world. Gardens, 
groves, the gleams of a winding river, white cottages half 
covered by creeping shrubs, lane3 of flowering cactus, 



PINE FOREST. 



201 



alternating tracts of yellow sands, and clumps of pine- 
trees, afford a delightful range for the searching eye; while 
the sea terminates each vista to the north and south, and 
the Lebanon towers grandly to the east. To the west, as 
we pass aloug this valley, are visible the houses of the 
resident Franks, who add the comforts of the West to the 
picturesqueness and luxury of the East. Their galleries 
are open towards the mountain, and giaours though they 
be, they are often to be seen quite quietly sitting in their 
verandahs, or reposing on their terraces, enjoying the 
fragrant weed that intensifies their perception of the beauty 
of their splendid view. 

After proceeding for some time through a narrow lane, 
with hedges of thickly-clotted cactus, we emerged into the 
romantic pine-forest about which Lamartine has written 
such pretty rhapsodies. An open space of bright soft sand 
shoots pathways in every direction through the shade, 
whose pleasant gloom soon terminates their vistas. At 
the foot of each old tree is a little circular carpet of ver- 
dure, looking at a distance like the shadow of its pine; the 
majestic groves of older growth, intermingled with the 
tender green of the young plantations, canopy the whole 
region around with a various and chequered shade. The 
caravans pass along noiselessly on the soft verdure or the 
yielding sand; not a sound is heard but that of the far-off 
sea, and the faint rustle of the branches. Through the deep 
foliage, a view of the impending Lebanon occasionally 
breaks, and cool breezes, that seem to have their home here, 
wander inquisitively about in each natural bower and 
shady nook. The glades, and banks, and pathways, and 
arenas, present the very scene that Romance would select 
for the warrior's or the lover's delectation — for " passages 
of arms" or of poetry. 

About an hour from the city (we measure distance here 
by time), you pull up at a pretty khan, where a trough 
of water quenches your horses glowing nostrils, and you 
can ask your way and light your pipe.* Thence by 

* These khans afford a mere temporary shelter to travellers in this 
part of Syria, while in the south-east, and in Egypt, they are of 
immense extent, and form receptacles for whole caravans, that bring 
thither their own forage and provisions. In the latter case, they are fre- 



202 



BIVOUAC, 



sandy paths or rocky tracks, through two or three flat- 
roofed villages, whose inhabitants sit spinning silk in the 
shade of rustic colonnades; and then we reach the shore, 
bordered by thick jungle, or rocky steeps. As the sun 
went down, we came to the river Damour, and encamped 
there for the night; our own tent and fire, and the stream 
that ran at our feet, supplying all our wants. 

The next morning, as the sun rose over the Lebanon, we 
forded the river Damour, which runs into the sea from a 
beautiful valley among banks and islands thickly strewn 
with oleander. In about two hours I halted under the 
shade of a sycamore, to wait for some officers of the Ver- 
non, who had promised to accompany me as far as Djouni, 
on my Jerusalem way. Near us was a khan, whence we 
procured barley and water for our horses, and eggs, milk, 
and fire for our cooking : mats and carpets were spread in 
the shade; maccaroni and coffee boiling on a fire of dried 
branches ; and our horses feeding under the shelter of some 
olives — when a cheer was heard, and four sailors were 
seen galloping along the shore, impatient to rally round 
the fire whose smoke above the trees announced its friendly 
offices beneath. Ample justice being done to the banquet, 
we were soon in the saddle once more, and sweeping along 
over hill and vale, and rock, and sandy bay, until we came 
in sight of the venerable city of Sidon. Thence we turned 
off to the left towards the mountains, through mulberry 
and olive groves; passing by a pretty hamlet, and then 
along the banks of a river spanned with antique bridges, 
and overhung with pleasant shade. 

The road, winding sometimes along a deep ravine, some- 
times over a mountain's brow, was nothing but a steep 
and rocky path, which in England a goat alone could be 
expected to travel. Our horses, however, went along it at 
a canter, though the precipice sometimes yawned beneath 
our outside stirrup, while the inner one knocked fire out 

quently called " caravanserai " — " serai/' or seraglio, meaning a palace 
or large house. In the former instance, of which I speak here, the khan 
is a sort of public-house, which generally supplies barley for horses ; 
and pipes, coffee, sour milk, and water-melons for their riders. 
They are scattered along the road at about half-days' journeys, or 
from ten to fifteen miles apart. 



DJOUNI. 



203 



of the rocky cliff, and the ground not unfrequently gave 
way the moment the hoof had left it, and plunged into the 
chasm far below. 

The views were fine and various: deep, rich valleys, 
sprinkled occasionally with a flat-roofed cottage, a vine- 
yard, or a mill; a capricious stream, gliding or rushing 
along under its oleander shade: steep hills, speckled with 
grey crags, or overgrown with the bay-tree and the 
myrtle; here and there, a town, with a very fortress-look, 
crowned some steep acclivity; or a wood of sycamores 
gloomed over the pale rocks. 

It was late when we came in sight of two high conical 
hills on one of which stands the village of Djouni, on the 
other, a circular wall, over which dark trees were waving; 
and this was the place in which Lady Hester Stanhope 
had finished her strange and eventful career. It had for- 
merly been a convent, but the Pasha of Sidon had given it 
to the "prophet-lady," who converted its naked walls into 
a palace, and its wilderness into gardens. 

The sun was setting as we entered the enclosure, and 
we were soon scattered about the outer court, picketting 
our horses, rubbing down their foaming flanks, and wash- 
ing out their wounds. The buildings that constituted the 
palace were of a very scattered and complicated descrip- 
tion, covering a wide space, but only one story in height : 
courts and gardens, stables and sleeping-rooms, halls of 
audience and ladies' bowers, were strangely intermingled. 
Heavy weeds were growing everywhere among the open 
portals, and we forced our way with difficulty through a 
tangle of roses and jasmine to the inner court; here, choice 
flowers once bloomed, and fountains played in marble 
basins; but now was presented a scene of the most melan- 
choly desolation. As the watch-fire blazed up, its gleam 
fell upon masses of honeysuckle and woodbine; on white, 
mouldering walls beneath, and dark, waving trees above; 
while the group of mountaineers who gathered round its 
light, with their long beards and vivid dresses completed 
the strange picture. 

The clang of sword and spear resounded through the 
long galleries; horses neighed among bowers and boudoirs; 
strange figures hurried to and fro among the colonnades, 



204 



LADY HESTER STANHOPE. 



shouting in Arabic, English, and Italian; the fire crackled, 
the startled bats flapped their heavy wings, and the growl 
of distant thunder rilled np the pauses in the rough sym- 
phony. 

Our dinner was spread on the floor in Lady Hester's 
favourite apartment; her death-bed was our sideboard, her 
furniture our fuel, her name our conversation. Almost 
before the meal was ended, two of our party had dropped 
asleep over their trenchers from fatigue : the Druses had 
retired from the haunted precincts to their village, and 

W . L- . and I went out into the garden to smoke 

our pipes by Lady Hester's lonely tomb. About midnight 
we fell asleep upon the ground, wrapped in our capotes : 
and dreamed of ladies, and tombs, and prophets, till the 
neiofhin^ of our horses announced the dawn. 

After a hurried breakfast on fragments of the last night's 
repast, we strolled out over the extensive gardens. Here 
many a broken arbour and trellis, bending under masses 
of jasmine and honeysuckle, show the care and tasre that 
were once lavished on this wild but beautiful hermitage 1 
a garden-house, surrounded by an enclosure of roses run 
wild, lies in the midst of a grove of myrtle and bay-trees. 
This was Lady Hester's favourite resort during her life- 
time; and now, within its silent enclosure, 

{i After Life's fitful fever, she sleeps ^ e 11 . " ^ 

The hand of Ruin has dealt very sparingly with all these 
interesting relics: the Pasha's power by clay, and the fear 
of spirits by night, keep off marauders: and. though we 
made free with broken benches and fallen doorposts for 
fuel, we reverently abstained from displacing anything in 
the establishment, except a few roses, which there was no 
living thing but bees and nightingales to regret. It was 
one of the most striking and interesting spots I ever wit- 
nessed : its silence and beauty, its richness and desolation, 
lent to it a touching and mysterious character that suited 
well the memory of that strange hermit-lady who has 
made it a place of pilgrimage, even in Palestine/' 

* While Lady Hester Stanhope lived, although numbers visired 
the convent, she almost invariably refused admittance to strangers. 
She assigned as a reason the use which M. de Lamarrine had made 



LADY HESTER STANHOPE. 



205 



The Pasha of Sidon presented Lady Hester with the 
deserted convent of Mar Elias on her arrival in his country, 
and this she soon converted into a fortress, garrisoned by 
a band of Albanians : her only attendants besides were, 
her doctor, her secretary, and some female slaves. Public 
rumour soon busied itself with such a personage, and exag- 
gerated her influence and power. It is even said that she 
was crowned Queen of the East at Palmyra by 50.000 
Arabs. She certainly exercised almost despotic power in 
her neighbourhood on the Mountain: and, what was per- 
haps the most remarkable proof of her talents, she pre- 
vailed on some Jews to advance large sums of money to 
her on her note of hand. She lived for many years, beset 
with difficulties and anxieties, but to the last she held on 
gallantly : even when confined to her bed and dying, she 
sought for no companionship or comfort but such as she 
could find in her own powerful, though unmanageable 
mind. 

Mr. Moore, our consul at Beyrout, hearing she was ill, 
rode over the mountains to visit her, accompanied by 
Mr. Thomson, the American missionary. It was evening 
when they arrived, and a profound silence was over all 
the palace ; no one met them ; they lighted their own 
lamps in the outer court, and passed unquestioned through 
court and gallery, until they came to where she lay. A 
corpse was the only inhabitant of the palace, and the 
isolation from her kind which she had sought so long was 
indeed complete. That morning, thirty-seven servants 
had watched every motion of her eye : its spell once 
darkened by death, every one fled with such plunder as 
they could secure. A little girl, adopted by her and 
maintained for years, took her watch and some papers on 
which she had set peculiar value. X either the child nor 
the property were ever seen again. Not a single thing 

of his interview. Mrs. T.. who passed some weeks at Djouni, told 
me, that, when Lady Hester read his account of this interview, she 
exclaimed, "It is all false ; we did not converse together for more 
than five minutes ; but, no matter — no traveller hereafter shall betray 
or forge my conversations." The author of Edthen, however, was 
her guest, and has given an interesting account of his visit in his 
brilliant volume. 



206 



SIDON. 



was left in the room where she lay dead, except the orna- 
ments upon her person : no one had ventured to touch 
these ; even in death she seemed able to protect herself. 
At midnight, her countryman and the missionary carried 
her out by torchlight to a spot in the garden that had 
been formerly her favourite resort, 




and here they buried the self-exiled Lady, 



CHAPTER XX. 

SIDON, TYRE, AND ACRE. 

We wandered on to many a shrine, 
By faith or ages made divine ; 
And then we visited each place 
Where valour's deeds had left a trace ; 
Or sought the spots renowned no less 
For Nature's lasting loveliness. 

The Troubadour, L. E. L. 

The road down the mountain was full of interest, and 
on reaching the plain we found a path that lay along the 



SIDON, 



207 



banks of a sparkling river, leading us out upon a finely 
curved and yellow-sanded shore. We galloped along 
these sands for several miles, and then entered Sidon, 
through a guardhouse and covered way filled with Turkish 
soldiers. We passed several groups along the shore that 
would each have made a highly-coloured painting : those 
who have been struck by the picturesqueness of gipsy 
encampments in England may fancy the amusement a 
wayfarer continually finds in a country where such life is 
universal ; but, in the latter, the long beards of the 
Moslem, the gay colours of their dresses, and the trousered 
women, with their various veils and turbans, infinitely 
diversify the groups. 

Sidon is as irregularly built, and has streets as narrow, 
and as much varied by bazaars, cafes, and stables, as the 
other Oriental towns I have endeavoured to describe. Its 
fortifications offered considerable resistance to the Anglo- 
Austrian-Turkish army in the late siege : the Archduke 
Ferdinand was the first to enter the breach when effected 
on the land side ; the attack was well supported by the 
fire of the British fleet. 

There are some remains of Fakreddin's palace, standing 
out into the sea, and only connected with the town by 
a long and narrow bridge : into this palace a body of 
Turkish troops had been thrown, but they hesitated to 
cross the bridge, swept as it was by the fire of the Egyptian 
troops. A mate on board one of the English steamers, 
named Cummins, observed their hesitation, and entreated 
permission from his commanding officer to land and lead 
them : this was granted with some difficulty : the young 
sailor pulled to the palace in the dingey, leaped ashore, 
and called on the Turks with a cheer to follow him. He 
epi'ang upon the bridge under a shower of balls, and was 
haL way across it before his infidel allies dared to support 
him : they came on then with the bayonet, and the 
western town was won. This was told to me by Maquire, 
one of the officers of the Vernon, who was riding by 
my side ; he omitted to mention that his own forehead 
had been laid open by a bullet while - gallantly leading 
another attack on the same place. 



4 



208 



SIDON*. 



Sidon is called Saida in the language of the country. 
Tt contains about 7000 inhabitants, the greater number of 
whom are Moslems, the remainder Jews. Maronites, and 
Greek Christians. Until the time of Fakreddin, it had a 
good port, but that Emir filled all the harbours along the 
coast in order to prevent the Sultan's fleets from anchoring 
here, when he revolted from his authority. The citadel is 
said to have been built by Louis XL. and commands a fine 
view of the orchards and gardens, diversified with country- 
houses, that ornament the environs. The principal trade 
of the town, consisting of silk, cotton, and nutgalls. has 
been transferred of late years to Beyrout. 

This is the most ancient city of Phoenicia : mention is 
made of it in the Pentateuch and Homer : it was assigned 
to the tribe of Asher, in the division of the Promised Land 
by Joshua, but never was subdued by the Israelites. For 
wealth, commerce, luxury, vice, and power, it was un- 
equalled in the Levant,, until Tyre outstripped it, and 
Salmanezer conquered it. Thence it passed successively 
under the rule of the Persians, Macedonians, Syrians, 
Egyptians, Romans, Arabs, and Crusaders. It was an 
opulent city at the time when Christ visited its territory : 
it sent a bishop to the council of Nice iu 825. Its de- 
struction was accomplished by Melek Adel, the brother of 
Saladin, in 119? j afterwards it partially recovered at 
intervals, to be as often destroyed. 

At the beginning of the seventeenth century, Fakreddin 
restored it to considerable importance, and rendered it the 
seaport of Damascus, whence it is distant only three days' 
journey : after this, it became almost a colony of the 
French, but they were driven out by Djezzar Pasha in 
1791, and, since then, European vessels seldom approached 
its dangerous coast.* 

Early on the 29th of May, I started for Tyre, which, 
seated on a peninsula, soon became visible from the coast 
along which I rode. The way was profoundly lonely : E 
did not meet a living creature throughout the day. except 
nome Syrian girls who drew water for me at a well near 
Sidon. As evening closed in. I found myself on a wide,- 
Robinson, vol. ii. p. 4l6r 



TYRE. 



209 



solitary plain, diversified only by a dark and almost stag- 
nant river :* heavy clouds were hanging on the horizon, 
thunder muttered ominously among the distant hills, bull- 
frogs were croaking harshly on the banks — the whole 
scene wore an aspect of utter desolation. Fording the 
stream where it reached my saddle-bow, I spurred on to j 
the ruins of a Saracenic castle commanding the passage of 
the river, and, entering under a low, vaulted passage, found 
myself in the courtyard of a ruin that seemed a capital 
specimen of a robber's haunt : dark caverns and gloomy 
vaults appeared in every direction ; the old walls of the 
donjon towered over my head, and there was probably no 
one living outside its walls for ten miles round : the 
appearance of two armed Arabs whom I found here was 
as little prepossessing as the aspect of the place, but it 
was too late to be fastidious. I flung the rein of my 
horse to one of the strangers to be led about, and, order- 
ing the other to make a fire instantly, I sat down upon 
a fallen column, and lighted my pipe. The assumption 
of authority generally confers the possession of it in a 
country where everyone is unknown to his neighbour: 
the Arabs looked at each other for a moment, then set 
about obeying the orders of their extempore tyrant ; my 
horse was cool, and a cheerful fire blazing, when my 
servants arrived. 

We kept watch by turns during the night, having 
shared our supper with the Arabs; they prowled about all 
night ; but the next morning I was cantering along the 
sands to Tyre, before the sun rose upon that ill-favoured 
castle. Passing the ruins of an aqueduct on the left, and 
some columns of granite on the right along the shore, I 
came to the isthmus by which Alexander connected the 
mainland with the island, in order to invest the city which 
then occupied the latter. The original Tyre seems to 
have been built upon the continent : it was founded by a 
Sidonian colony, 240 years before the building of Solo- 
mon's Temple, to which its king, Hiram, largely contri- 
buted. This city has dearly purchased its celebrity, hav- 
ing been besieged by Salmanezer, Nebuchadnezzar, and 

* This is the Liettani, the Leontes of ancient times, which waters 
the vale of Baalbec. 



210 



PALJE TYRUS. 



Alexander ; Antigonus, the Romans, the Saracens and 
Crusa-ders ; Egyptians, Turks, and — of course — by the 
English, the motto of whose artillery is " ubique." 

Tyre was visited by Christ and by St. Paul ; it became 
a Christian bishopric in very early times. In the fourth 
century, Jerome speaks of it as the finest city in Phoenicia ; 
an the Venetian a held it for many years after the Cru- 
sades, partly restoring its character for commerce, wealth, 
an manufactures. I confess I was disappointed in its 
appearance. Its strength and beauty of position, and even 
its desolation, were less than I had expected : it is an 
ugly, little, matter-of-fact looking town, containing per- 
haps 5000 inhabitants, of the usual squalid but contented, 
or rather resigned, appearance. The buildings occupy 
the northern side of the peninsula ; on the southern 
side, it is true, there are some rocks lonely enough, if it 
were very early in the morning, for " fishermen to dry 
their nets upon ;" but Ezekiel's prophecy was accom- 
plished long ago. 

As Pales Tyrus was probably the only city in existence 
here at the time the prophecy was uttered, "that Tyre 
should be utterly destroyed and never rebuilt/' it is evi- 
dent that it could not allude to the present town, which 
has been rebuilt at least nine times. The former was 
probably called Palae Tyrus only for distinction (after the 
modern town had risen); it is supposed to have occupied 
a space about a mile from the shore, where a steep rock 
marks the site of its ancient citadel. 

Bounding the plain, there rises a bold range of hills, 
extending far into the sea, called formerly the u Promon- 
torium Album." Surmounting this, we came in view of 
a wide and fertile plain, with the town and fortress of 
Acre in the distance, relieved off the heights of Mount 
Carmel, which terminated the seaward view. Descending 
from the mountain to this plain by a very steep and diffi- 
cult path, called anciently "the ladder of Tyre," we tra- 
versed the plain for some hours : it was only partially 
cultivated, the* greater part consisting of grassy tracts 
tufted with rushes, and occasionally sheltered by groups 
of trees under which shepherds watched their flocks. A 
feif villages were scattered widely apart, each with a 



BEDOUIN. 



211 



large walled enclosure to protect their cattle at night from 
the foraging Bedouin. 

As evening approached, the plain grew very lonely, 
though 1 met some shepherds anxiously hurrying their 
herds homeward : their country looked quite Arcadian, 
the ev r ening was calm and beautiful, yet anxiety and fear 
were depicted in every countenance. We soon learned 
that there had been a battle on the plain the day before, 
and the people were hourly expecting a renewal of hosti- 
lities from the Bedouins who had been repulsed. One or 
two of these wild horsemen had passed me at a gallop, and 
I met several more in a body soon afterwards : they drew 
up along the path as I approached, but, though they did 
not offer the usual salutation, they permitted me to pass 
unquestioned. I then pulled up to wait for my servants, 
and, offering them some tobacco, entered into such conver- 
sation with them as I could maintain. 

These fellows always appear on a journey as if they 
were going to war ; and indeed these occupations are 
almost synonymous with tribes "whose hand is against 
every man's;" when they do go to war there is nothing in 
their outward appearance that displays any change from 
their most peaceful guise. Their wild fierce eyes, and 
screaming voices, and vehement gestures, made them any- 
thing but agreeable company, especially at such an hour; 
and it was with no slight feeling of release I heard their 
" salaam/' as I rode off to overtake my baggage-horses, 
which had now passed by. 

As I rode towards Acre, I met many travellers, all 
armed to the teeth : they drew close together as I ap- 
proached, although alone, for my people had gladly joined 
company with some other wayfarers : as they were in the 
enjoyment of security and society, I pushed on unattended 
towards the place of my destination. I soon overtook a 
Bedouin, who was splendidly mounted and seemed to wel- 
come my arrival as a spectator of the prowess and beauty 
of his horse : the squalidness of his appearance contrasted 
curiously with the richness of his arms and the proud car- 
riage of the animal he rode. Observing my admiration he 
dashed his sharp stirrups into his horse's flanks; flew for- 
ward, and wheeled round me at a gallop, whirling his 

p 2 



212 



ACHE* 



tufted spear above his head with loud cries, and then 
pulling up short beside me. He was then in high good 
humour; he even praised my horse, and proceeded to eulo- 
gise the English and Ibrahim Pasha, who appears at pre- 
sent to be considered as the hero of the East. We were 
then in sight of Acre, and I asked him if he remembered 
our bombardment : suddenly his countenance lighted up 
as if it reflected the magnificent explosion, and he ex- 
claimed, (i Ibrahim Pasha, taib, taib 1" ( very good) "pop ! 
pop! pop r — " Ingoleez,*' taib kheteer"' (excellent) — 
" hoo ! Bombe !" and, so saying, he shot his lance high 
into the air, to illustrate the explosion as compared with 
the Egyptian's fusilade. 

We now approached the encampment of his tribe, which 
he pointed out, and asked me to accompany him thither. 
I declined the tempting invitation, and soon afterwards 
reached Acre, where, they say, it will require ten years of 
labour to repair the effects of ten hours of English fire. 

Ptolemais Acre, or, as the Syrians call it, Akka, is 
imposing-looking from the outside; but within, it is poor, 
dirty, and irregularly built. Some hundred Turkish sol- 
diers and many impressed peasants were at work upon the 
fortifications : but there was little other appearance of 
activity or life within its silent streets. 

Beyrout, Sidon, and Tyre, had been successively cap- 
tured for the Turks by our squadron under Commodore 
Napier, almost as rapidly as he could cruize along the 
coast. On the 3rd November, 1840, Admiral Stopford 
was joined by the Commodore off Acre, and, a flag of truce 
being rejected, they went to work at once. The town 
was commanded and the artillery directed by Colonel 
Schultze, a Pole in Mehemefc Ali's service : he was known 
in the Egyptian army as Youssef Aga, and had obtained 
considerable distinction in the Syrian war. He found the 
guns upon the fortifications very badly mounted; and, as 
the artillerymen were proportionately inefficient, he laid 
the guns himself so as to command the line of buoys 
placed at night by the British boats, concluding that they 
marked the stations which our ships were to occupy. 
Unfortunately for his plans 9 these buoys only marked the 
* The English. 



EXPLOSION. 



213 



soundings — the path, and not the resting-places — of our 
gallant fleet. The powerful steam-frigates required no 
moorings : running in close under the walls, they took up 
their positions, and laid their guns with as much precision 
as so many batteries of horse- artillery; the rest of the 
squadron, separating into two divisions, opened a cross-fire 
from the north and south-west upon the town. The 
Phoenix, with the admiral on board, began the action 
about noon, and plied her powerful artillery with suck 
accuracy, that she cleared and dismounted every gun upon 
the fortifications, where her shot could find space enough 
in the embrasures to enter by : many of our ships, espe- 
cially the Castor frigate, were anchored within musket- 
shot : and the rattle of innumerable small arms filled up the 
momentary pauses left by the booming of a thousand guns. 

The whole mass of the lofty fortifications appeared 
like one great volcanic mountain, enveloped in a pyramid 
of cloud-like smoke, through which the lightnings flashed, 
and the thunder pealed from every battlement and bastion. 
The ships, too, enveloped each in its own canopy of flame- 
pierced smoke, surrounded the fiery promontory like a 
Liparian Cyclades : the day was gloriously bright; and 
the glimpses of the magnificent scenery around, appearing 
through vistas of white smoke-like clouds reflected in the 
water, were described to me by an eye-witness as pro- 
ducing the grandest conceivable effect. The cannonade 
seemed to reach a climax in the explosion of the powder- 
magazine of Acre, which, through all the brilliant sun- 
shine, threw a glare upon the distant hills, and sent two 
thousand Egyptians in fragments to the skies : the bat- 
teries to the southward then ceaesd to fire, from want of 
hands to work the guns, but those to the northward were 
fought bravely to the last. In the night, the Egyptians 
evacuated the town; and on the following morning the 
British and their allies took undisputed possession of the 
strongest fortress in the Levant. 

It was not the strength of these fortifications, however, 
powerful as they were, but the desperate resistance of the 
British and those whom they animated, that beat back 
Napoleon from these walls on the 3 8th of March, 1799.* 
"Expeditions en Egypt et en Syrie." Par J. Miot. Second edit. 



214: 



THE BIVOUAC. 



" Yonder is the key of the East," said he truly to Murat, 
as he sat down before Acre. When nine murderous but 
vain assaults, sixty days' suspense, and the ravages of the 
plague, had " affoiblisse le moral du soldat,*' and avenged 
the wholesale massacre of Jaffa, the French raised the 
siege, and re-entered Cairo under an arch of triumph ! 

But it is to the crusades that Acre owes its chief inte- 
rest. It was to them, as to Napoleon, the " key of the 
East." Its old walls have echoed to the war-cries of the 
lion-hearted Richard and Saladin; and there are few fami- 
lies of ancient blood whose ancestors were not among the 
Christian host under these beleaguered towers. 



CHAPTER XXL 

THE BIVOUAC, AND MOUNT CAUMEL. 

The hot sun shrinks from the land of the Kurd, 
As the welcome cry to halt is heard. 
Weary and faint were they who had striven, 
Through the sultry hours when that sign was given % 
From the courser's back each lias loosed his reign 3 
And he feeds at will on the verdant plain. 
Or drinks of the fount that is gushing by, 
While the evening breeze wakes rejoicingly. 
And Arab and Frank in brotherhood share 
A luxurious rest in the perfumed air; 
And that balmy sense of entire repose, 
Which the trammelled spirit too seldom knows. 

Anon. 

I swear to thee, by my holy order, by the habit which I wear, by 
the Mountain of our blessed founder, Elias, even him who was 
translated without suffering the ordinary pangs of mortality. 

The Talisman* 

Towns in the East are so disagreeable, and have so few 
resources, the country is so beautiful and full of interest, 
that I always felt a lively pleasure in passing out from the 
guarded gates of some did city to return to the tent and 
the wild pathway of the plain or mountain. Travel in 
the East is the occupation of your whole time, not a mere 



EASTERN TRAVEL. 



215 



passage from one place of residence to anotlier; the haunts 
of men soon become distasteful, and their habits irksome, 
to one accustomed to the wild freedom and perfect inde- 
pendence of an Eastern wanderer's life : the very hard- 
ships of the latter have a charm, and its dangers an excite- 
ment, all unknown to the European traveller. 

You are wakened in the morning by the song of birds, 
which the sleeping ear, all regardless of the jackall's howl 
or the ocean's roar throughout the night, yet recognises as 
its expected summons. You fling off the rough capote, 
your only covering — start from the carpet, your only 
couch — and, with a plunge into the river or the sea, your 
toilet is made at once. The rainbow mists of morning are 
still heavy on the landscape while you sip your coffee ; 
but by the time you spring into the saddle ail is clear and 
bright, and you feel, while you press the sides of your 
eager horse, and the stirring influence of morning buoys 
you up, as if fatigue could never come. The breeze, full of 
Nature's perfume and Nature's music, blusters merrily 
round your turban as you gallop to the summit of some 
hill to watch the Syrian sunrise spread in glory over 
Lebanon, Hermon, or Mount Carmel. Meanwhile, your 
tent is struck ; your various luggage packed upon the 
horses, with a completeness and celerity that only the 
wandering Arab can attain to, and a heap of ashes alone 
remains to mark the site of your transient home. Your 
cavalcade winds slowly along the beaten path, but you 
have many a castled crag, or woody glen, or lonely ruin 
to explore : and your untiring Arab courser seems ever 
fresh and vigorous as when he started. Occasionally you 
meet some traveller armed to the teeth, who inquires news 
of the road you have come, and perhaps relates some mar- 
vellous adventure from which he has just escaped. He 
bristles like a porcupine, with a whole armoury of pistols, 
daggers, and yataghans, but his first and parting salutation 
is that of " Peace !" — in no country of the world is that 
gentle word so often used, or so little felt. 

Some khan, or convent, or bubbling spring marks your 
resting-place during the burning noon : and you are soon 
again in motion, with all the exhilaration of a second 
morning. Your path is as varied as your thoughts ; now 



216 



EASTERN TRAVEL. 



over slippery crags, upon some view- commanding moun- 
tain's brow; now 5 along verdant valleys, or through some 
ravine, where the winter torrent was the last passenger. 
Oleanders in rich bloom are scattered over the green turf; 
your horse treads odours out of a carpet of wild flowers ; 
strange birds of brilliant plumage are darting from bough 
to bough of the wild myrtle and the lemon-tree : lizards are 
gleaming among the rocks ; and the wide sea is so calm, 
and bright, and mirror-like, that the solitary ship upon 
its bosom seems suspended, like Mahomet's coffin, between 
two skies. 

All this time you are travelling in the steps of prophets, 
conquerors, and apostles ; perhaps along the very path 
which the Saviour trod. "What is yonder village V 
" Nazareth. " What yonder lake T " The sea of Galilee." 
Only he who has heard these answers from a native of 
Palestine can understand their thrilling sound. 

But evening approaches : your horse's step is as free, 
but less elastic than fourteen hours ago. Some wayside 
khan or village presents itself for the night's encampment ; 
but, more frequently, a fountain or a river's bank is the 
only inducement that decides you to hold up your hand : 
suddenly, at that sign, the horses stop ; down comes the 
luggage ; and, by the time you have unbridled and 
watered your horse, a carpet is spread on the green turf, 
and a fire is already blazing. As you fling yourself on 
the hard couch of earth with a sensation of luxury, one of 
your attendants presents you with the soothing chibouque, 
while another hands a tiny cup of coffee ; this at once 
restores tone to your system, and enables you to look 
out upon the lovely sunset with absorbing satisfaction. 
Meanwhile, your tent has risen silently over you ; the 
baggage is arranged in a crescent form round the door ; 
the horses are picketted in front, wkva simple meal is 
soon despatched, and a quiet stroll by moonlight concludes 
the day. Then, wrapped in your capote, you fling your- 
self once more upon your carpet, place your pistols under 
your saddle pillow, and are soon lost in such sleep as only 
the care-free traveller knows. 

I had been only three hours in Acre, but the transition 
from its melancholy streets to the open country was 



CAIFFA. 



217 



delightful. I rode past St. George's Mount, and forded 
the little river Belus, whence the route lay among shrub- 
beries of valonidis and laurustinus, and by the banks of 
" that ancient river, the river Kishon." We read of this 
brook drowning many fugitives in the discomfiture of 
Sisera's host ; and of similar performances on its part after 
the Turks were defeated by the French at Mount Tabor ; 
now, it runs meekly and unostentatiously into the sea, not 
six yards wide, and scarcely reaching to the horses' knees. 
A fine avenue of sycamores partly shades the path to 
CaifFa, a pretty, little, gaily-bazaared town, which we 
traversed ; and, after some steep climbing, arrived at the 
summit of Mount Carmel, where the promontory looks out 
upon the sea. The view from here is very grand, but 
somewhat saddening, from the loneliness and want of cul- 
tivation that everywhere meet the eye — an immense ex- 
panse of ocean, unenlivened by a single sail ; wide tracts 
of land, unchequered by a village ; and, at the base of 
the mountain, a few half-bald corn-fields, and some olive 
and sycamore trees. The " excellency of Carmel " is 
indeed " departed ;" but there is still much that is ro- 
mantic and interesting in the character ot the mountain 
and the view that it commands. Beyond the beautiful 
bay to the north, the town and fortress of Acre stands 
boldly out into the sea ; on the south, the extensive ruins 
of Castel Pelegrino and a wild range of mountains bound 
the horizon. 

After a glance from the heights, I descended to the con- 
vent, a large, unadorned building of two stories high, with 
a dome in the midst. I was received with great kindness 
by the fathers; and, having met with an accident in 
ascending the mountain, I stood not a little in need of 
their hospitality. It was an agreeable surprise, instead of 
the usual bare, whitewashed cell, to find here a neat little 
sitting-room, such as one meets in Welsh inns; there was 
even, I think, a carpet on the floor, and certainly there 
were chairs and tables, rare luxuries in these parts. 
What struck me most, however, were some pretty hand- 
screens, which my host told me with pride had been 
painted by a " bellissima signora," during her stay at the 
convent. There were numerous names of lady-visitors is 



218 



MOUNT OARMEL. 



the fathers' book ; and very pleasant it must be to those 
of the gentler sex who venture upon this sough Syrian 
travelling, to rest' their delicate limbs even for a night on 
these soft couches of the Carmelites. From the sitting- 
room, a corridor leads to four bed-rooms, neatly furnished, 
and extremely clean : one of these, to the great credit of 
the fathers, is even adapted for the reception of a married 
couple. In this hospitable cunvent I remained fur five 
days, unable to leave my room, and most kindly attended 
by Fra 5 Jean Battista and Fra' Clementi. The latter was 
a meek and resigned-looking young monk, probably not 
more than thirty years of age, but eleven of these he had 
been withering in a convent; the former is a very remark- 
able man. — Jean Battista is now seventy years old, and ye| 
his eye is as full of fire, and his energy as fresh, as when 
he first assumed the cowl in penance for errors that were, 
perhaps, the consequence of his temperament. That very 
temperament, when acting upon different motives, built up 
this convent where there had formerly been a monastery 
of some consideration; indeed, the whole mountain was 
once sprinkled over w th little hermitages, wherein the 
followers of Elijah sought for the sources of his inspira- 
tion in the scenes that had witnessed his trials and his 
triumph. 

These hermits died upon the mountain, and with them 
the solitary spirit. Those who afterwards sought retire- 
ment here were contented to find it in communion with 
fellow-sufferers, and the convent still survived. During 
the siege of Acre, by Napoleon, it was converted into a 
hospital for the wounded; and, after their retreat, blown 
up by the Pasha, as much out of vengeance as precaution. 
Jean Battista, in making a pilgrimage to Elijah's cave, 
some twenty years ago, found only an altar and an arch- 
way there; but he made a vow upon the spot that he 
would rebuild the sanctuary; and what his strong will 
determined, his resolute energy accomplished. He tra- 
velled over Europe, begging as a friar for this purpose, 
during fourteen years, and now the stateliest convent in 
Palestine rewards his labours. Although its founder, he 
is only a lay-brother, having appointed a superior over 
himself aDd twenty-four Carmelites, who are lodged here 



THE CARMELITES. 



219 



and who dispense provisions to tbe poorer pilgrims : for 
these they have built a separate hospice. 

Each monk has some peculiar office : that of Fra' de- 
menti consisted in receiving and entertaining guests; Jean 
Battista manages the temporal affairs, and the rest are 
occupied in some manner known only to themselves. I 
scarcely ever saw these last; but, while I took my meals, 
Fra' Clementi used to sit with me : a coarse, brown cloth 
hood and cassock, a rope girdle, and sandals, constituted 
his dress: his voice was soft and low, particularly when 
he spoke of that home in Italy he was never to see again. 
He had taken the vows merely as other men enter upon a 
profession, without any particular vocation for doing so ; 
although only nineteen when he assumed the Carmelite's 
cowl, he had never repented of his dreary vows. So he 
said, at least, and probably believed : although his expres- 
sion of countenance was sad enough, there did not seem 
energy enough left in his hopeless heart for repining. 

There are panthers, partridges, hysenas, and wild-boars 
on the mountain; the few goatherds who invade its lonely 
valleys are always armed, and drive their flocks into 
stone inclosures before nightfall. The gamekeeper (or 
destroyer) employed by the brothers of the convent was 
unfortunately absent, but they assured me that wild boars 
abounded here, and that partridge and quail were very 
numerous. 

A more tempting spring or summer residence for any 
one in search of retirement could scarcely be imagined 
than this convent — magnificent scenery, the finest air, the 
calmest solitude at command; Italian spoken in perfection 
in the only society; and excursions within easy reach to 
Nazareth, Acre, Athlit, Esdraelon, Mount Tabor, and 
Csesarea Philippi. The rule of the convent is to entertain 
a stranger for a fortnight only, but they are too happy to 
continue their hospitality as long as he chooses to remain, 
provided he will take up his quarters occasionally in the 
.hospice, when newer guests and stronger claimants on the 
convent arrive. 

The diet is simple, perhaps too much so, for those who 
have not become accustomed to Eastern habits. Meat, 
except pigeons, is unknown, and even in that form is very 



220 



THE CONVENT. 



rare; soups made of vegetables; bread, eggs, coffee, and 
milk are the principal diet; there was also to be had 
a refreshing cordial (in which brandy figured advantage- 
ously) prepared by Fra' dementi's own attenuated hands. 

There are some very curious fossils found in a field near 
the convent; these are called petrified fruits by the inha- 
bitants, and bear an exact resemblance to melons and 
olives* in shape and colour. I believe there are other 
varieties in this stony garden, but these were all I saw : 
Fra' Clementi gave me the following account of their 
origin, not as a fact, I must observe, but as a legend. A 
churlish sort of Israelite, the Nabal of his neighbourhood, 
possessed a luxuriant orchard here in Elijah's time : The 
prophet passing by one day, and oppressed by thirst, re- 
quested this churl to give him a little fruit out of the 
abundance that had been bestowed upon him. 66 You are 
mistaken, old man," was the inhospitable answer; "what 
you see are only stones." " Many a true word is spoken 
in jest," said the wayfarer, or words to that effect, and 
passed on his journey. The gardener, on turning round, 
found that his own assertion was made true, and the pil- 
grim may now freely gather the fruit that was refused to 
the Prophet 2600 years ago. 

The convent is built over the cave in which Elijah is 
said to have taken refuge from the persecution of Ahab, 
and a little lower down is a larger cavern called the " Cave 
of the Prophets," wherein Obadiah sheltered and fed the 
faithful about the same time. 

The day before my departure, I went out upon the moun- 
tain in search of game : I only got a shot at one hyaena, 
which I wounded, but he escaped from me among cliffs 
where my horse could not follow. I then rode into 
Caiffa, to order horses for my journey, and found that 
every beast of burden had been pressed by the Turks for 
the transport of some regiments that were inarching to 
Beyrout. The Sultan's firman would have compelled the 
governor to find horses for me, but I was always indis- . 
posed to use its authority for such a purpose; as the 

* These " olives' ' are the spines of the fossil echinus. They 
are better known as the lapis Judaica, which abounds also in the 
Lebanon. 



DEPARTURE, 



221 



requisition would have been made of some poor farmer, 
whom no money could probably repay, or he would hare 
hare hired his horses freely. I therefore engaged a vessel 
to take me to Jaffa) a distance of about sixty miles, and the 
captain said he could take my own horse on board of her 
without difficulty. As it was an open boat, and did not 
draw above three feet of water, I was puzzled to know 
how this was to be accomplished; but as it frequently was 
done, and must be done, I left the arrangements to Syrian 
ingenuity. 

The next morning, at daylight, I was awakened by Jean 
Battista coming to take leave of me. He was about to 
ride to Beyrout, a distance of one hundred miles, which 
he calculated on accomplishing in three days; and yet hia 
years were seventy. Soon after his departure, two don- 
keys, baggaged to the ears, were to be seen picking their 
steps daintily down the steep path, with a very unwilling 
pedestrian, in the shape of my servant, assisting their pro- 
prietor to prevent the tottering little animals from rolling 
down the precipice. I presented Fra* Clementi with a 
somewhat larger gratuity than usual at departure, "not 
as repayment for the hospitality I had enjoyed, but as a 
grateful tribute to the convent and its charities." These 
establishments are almost the only hotels in Palestine, 
and their inmates always receive payment from those who 
are able to afford it, While those who differ from their 
faith cheerfully pay these very moderate demands, the 
being allowed to do so prevents one from feeling otherwise 
towards them than to any other house of entertainment, 
where fire, food, and shelter are afforded for a price : at 
Mount Carmel, however, the hospitality was so genuine, 
and the attention of the monks so kind and cordial, that 
I had no feeling but that of a grateful guest as I took 
my leave. 

My horse had become quite pampered during his rest, 
and now caracolled down the mountain's side, with a 
somewhat ill-timed display of activity. Poor fellow ! It 
was the last day's health and strength he was to know. 

Arrived at Caiffa, I handed him over to the captain of 
my transport, and went into the town about some business: 
when I returned, I found the poor brute laid on his side 



222 



MOUNT CARMEL. 



on a bed of sand in the hold of the pinnace ; his fore-feet 
firmly bound together, and his girths firmly lashed to the 
gunwale. I was struck with remorse, as he raised his 
speaking eyes to mine (he could not move his head), and 
seemed to appeal against this treatment. However, every 
one told me it was always thus that horses were trans- 
ported • that we should run to Jaffa in six hours ; and, in 
short, become somewhat of a fatalist, I bowed to necessity, 
thought of Islam, lighted my pipe, and gave orders to 
make sail from 




MOUNT C ARM EL. 



As soon as we got out to sea, the wind changed, and 
blew in half a gale from the southward ; the boat was un- 
decked, and the sea broke over her at every plunge : the 
coast was iron-bound, and inhabited by robbers and out- 
laws, who found shelter in its desolation. At one tack we 
ran close to the extensive and imposing ruins of Athlit, the 
Castle Pelegrino of the Crusades ; at another, the lurid 
moon revealed the ghastly remains of Caesarea Philippi. 
When we neared the shore, the jackall's cry mingled with 
the wild passionate sobbing of the wind and the roar of 
the surf, and my poor horse would prick his ears at that 



JAFFA. 



223 



familiar though dismal sound. Then the night closed in 
gloomily, and I fell asleep with the poor brute's head upon 
my knees, half wakened by every plunge of the creaking 
boat, and the moaning and struggles of my servant and 
horse, who seemed to suffer equal terror and distress. 
Daylight found us far from shore; the wind higher, and 
the waves wilder than ever ; a burning sun burst out upon 
us, and burnt tierce headaches into our unsheltered and 
unturbaned brows. We had scarcely a rag of sail set to 
the storm, but when the gale caught us on the ridge of a 
wave we were gunwale- under in a moment, and the leak- 
ing seams of the labouring boat grated ominously in our 
ears. The Syrian sailors showed both nerve and skill; 
standing out bravely against their inclination to run before 
the wind and regain the port of Caiffa. The weary day 
passed without variety, or any refreshment but hard eggs 
and muddy water, and night came on as dark as Erebus. 
There was no compass on board, and we only knew of our 
course when the roar of surf against the rocks announced 
to our ears that it was time to tack. 

The second morning dawned on a long, low, sandy shore, 
terminated by a small promontory, on which stood Jaffa 
among its green gardens — looking cool, pleasant, and wel- 
coming, contrasted with the surrounding desert and the 
foaming sea. Its harbour is a miserable little enclosure of 
rocks, which breaks the force of the Mediterranean waves, 
and just enables one to disembark. My horse was lifted 
out, and lay motionless on the sands, with the spray beat- 
ing over him ; it was an hour before he was able to stand 
and follow me, which he did like a dog, up the steep 
streets of this dreary town. 

Joppa was so called, says the Abbe Geramb, from 
J aphet, the son of Noah, who, it seems, contracted a taste 
for maritime pursuits during his long cruise in the Ark. 
He built a seaport here, from whence Jonah took shipping 
when " he fled from the presence of the Lord." " Near 
here," says St. Jerome, " I saw the remains of the chain 
wherewith Andromeda was bound to the rock, until de- 
livered by Perseus from the sea-monster [!]". Hither 
Hiram sent cedar of Lebanon, for the building of the 
Temple : here St. Peter saw the vidon of things common 



224 



JAFFA, 



and unclean ; and here Tabitha was raised from the 
dead. 

The town is a labyrinth of khans, convents, narrow 
lanes, deserted ruins, and waste places, with a few dingy 
streets leading from one wretched quarter to another. 
There are no such things as stables in these parts, so I 
was forced to put up my horse in a vaulted passage half 
blocked by the ruins of a castle. The Franciscan convent 
is spacious enough to shelter 1000 men, and at Easter, and 
other seasons of pilgrimage, is often quite full ; it con- 
tains an immense number of courts, house-tops, galleries, 
terraces, and corridors, with narrow, dirty, whitewashed 
cells for us — pilgrims. 

In the evening I went out, like all the Joppaites of 
ancient and modern times ? to enjoy the cool breeze upon 
the house-top; and, looking over the flat-roofed city, saw 
its various surfaces all alive, and sprinkled with gaily- 
dressed Syrians, for here even the Christians wear the 
Eastern habit. The superior of the convent sat with me 
for some time, and professed to point out the house-top 
whereon St. Peter prayed, and saw the great vision of 
Tolerance. This establishment, it seems, is merely a 
hospice, not a convent, strictly speaking; it is occupied 
only by four Spanish Franciscans, whose duty it is to 
receive and cherish pilgrims on their way to Jerusalem. 

The next morning I visited our Consular agent, a civil 
old Arab, who told me 1 had better wait for a caravan, or 
take an escort to Jerusalem, as the road was just then 
very unsafe. This is an almost invariable observation in 
Syria, made by every one in authority to every traveller 
who inquires his way. Having smoked his pipe and 
declined his offers of service, I rode forth upon my crippled 
horse, whose native spirit soon flung off his weariness; and 
stepping out as proudly as ever, he seemed endeavouring 
to disguise his stiffness. The town appeared much better 
this morning; the bazaars and markets seemed full of 
business, and looked very gay, with Syrian silks and 
shining arms, and a profusion of fruit, flowers, and vege- 
tables. The fortifications are rather respectable for an 
Eastern town, consisting of a wide ditch, a covered way, 
and a glacis, together with bastions and battlements along 



JAFFA. 



226 



the walls. Jaffa, made an honourable resistance to Bona- 
parte, and only 3,800 troops were left to surrender as 
prisoners of war, trusting to the Faith of Mercy, whiclt 
the deluded infidels supposed was professed hy their god- 
less invaders : they were butchered to a man in cold blood 
upon the following day,* 

The gateway was now filled with Turkish soldiers, and 
opened on a vacant space between it and the drawbridge, 
presenting a very picturesque appearance : in front is a 
handsome marble fountain, engraved with many pious 
Arabic inscriptions, which recommended the traveller as 
he quaffed the stream, to bless the Giver of it. An 
arcade of thickly-clustering vines shaded the enclosure, 
round which were recesses thronged with a gowned and 
bearded multitude, smoking and chatting gravely, or play- 
ing chess as intently as in that sublime sketch of Retzsch's, 
where Man gambles away his soul to Satan. Groups of 
picturesque and dark-eyed girls displayed the most grace- 
ful attitudes as they bent to fill their water-jars, or 
balanced them daintily on their veiled heads. 

A broad sandy path leads from the town through rich 
gardens, shaded by cypresses and mimosas, and hedged 
with gigantic cactus, to another handsome fountain, and 
an open space sheltered by palms : under these, several 
parties of travellers, with their kneeling camels and their 
little fires, were luxuriously resting. After some three 
miles, the road opened upon the wide Plain of Sharon, 
sprinkled with the iris, wild tulip, and almost every 
flower, except its own peculiar rose. 

• The Hill-country of Judea lay before us in a faint blue 
ridge ; the plains of Ascalon extended on the right ; the 
high tower of Rama appeared in the distance ; and the 
next evening we were to rest at Jerusalem If 

* Miot ( ie Expeditions en Egypt et en Syne") and Denon (2nd 
edit.) confirm Sir Robert Wilson's fearful story of this massacre. 

f The vast plains that lie between the Hill-country and the sea 
are very partially cultivated ; but the luxuriant corn and rich grass 
that grow wild prove how readily it can bring forth abundance, and 
that it is upon the inhabitants and not upon the soil that the curse still 
lies. Once twenty millions of people, it is said, dwelt in plenty and 
prosperity, where now some ] .800.000 find a scanty sustenance. 

Q 



226 



RAMLEH. 



Towards sunset, we reached Ramleh, and beat loud and 
long before we obtained admittance into the Franciscan 
convent outside the walls : this is a similar establishment 
to that I had just left at Jaffa, equally spacious, and only 
garrisoned by three Spanish monks. In the various cool 
cloisters and high-walled courts, shaded by the lemon, the 
orange, and the palm-tree, the air was delightfully re- 
freshing ; for it was now near midsummer, and we had 
swept the plain of Sharon at a gallop that soon distanced 
our temporary caravan. 

When I came down to dinner in a place like a cellar 
(only there was no wine in it), the fat Superior told me 
that I had fallen upon a fast-day, but bade me welcome to 
such fare as the refectory afforded. This consisted of a 
mass of smashed eggs, by way of an omelette, some 
cucumbers, and a dish of rice stewed in grease : there was 
good bread, however, and with this and my own tea, I 
contrived to practise abstinence even towards Lenten 
diet. 

One of these Franciscan monks appeared to belong to a 
higher order of birth and intellect that any I had yet met 
with. He accompanied me to the house-top, where my 
pipe and coffee were served, and inquired anxiously about 
the state of Spain and the war in the Basque provinces, 
which I told him I had witnessed. He became quite 
enthusiastic in his nationality when I spoke of the oak- 
tree of Guernica and the Fueros of his native country, 
the Basque provinces ; but when I asked him whether he 
was Carlist or Christino, he checked himself suddenly, 
and said with humility, a Signor — son' frate !" 

Soon afterwards he left me to myself, and keenly did I 
enjoy that first evening of my Judean travel. It appeared 
almost incredible to me that in a few short hours 1 should 
stand within the walls of Jerusalem ; yet there lay the 
path to it, opening among the hills of Judah, as they rose 
in beauty from Sharon's varied plains. The setting sun 
threw a rich glow upon the deep groves in which the 
picturesque town lay buried ; the air was the balmiest I 
ever breathed; myriads of birds were singing enthusias- 

Tbe more I see of Tuikish rule, the more admirably does that rule 
appeir adapted to accomplish a denouncing prophecy. 



RaMLEH. 



227 



tically in the palms and olive-branches ; the laughter of 
the village children sounded merrily from their play- 
ground • the lowing of cattle, the hum of insects — all was 
in perfect harmony and keeping. And then the strange, 
unusual appearance of the town over whose roofs I looked, 
Asmodeus-like, from the lofty convent terrace ! All the 
female inhabitants were pursuing their various occupations 
in the open air, in the court-yards, or on the roofs of their 
houses, which were all pimpled with little domes rising 
out of their flat roofs, and covered like them with grey 
stucco; this, with the minarets, gave a very peculiar 
effect to the downward view. About half a mile from the 
town are the magnificent ruins of an ancient khan or 
mosque, or both, with a lofty tower, that serves as a land- 
mark for many miles around. It was very amusing to 
watch the town taking its evening meal, "al fresco," each 
party invisible to its neighbour owing to partition walls, 
but open to my inspection as I stood on the convent watch- 
tower. Then the women began to array themselves for 
the night, all unconscious of a stranger's presence; start 
not, gentle reader, for there was no dis-arraying ; the 
Ramlehan maidens merely put on a loose white garment 
over their day-dress, and lay down to rest under the quiet 
aky. 

My sleeping cell was less squalid than in the Jaffa 
convent, but still was such as no English felon would be 
obliged to occupy. There were musquitoes, too, as 
thick as gnats under a summer bough; and it was 
without any interruption of slumber that I rose soon 
after midnight to start for Jerusalem. How soft and 
beautiful was that night, as its breezes whispered among 
the orange and the palm-trees in the cloistered courts, an(c 
the moon shone tenderly over forlorn Palestine and that- 
far-off silvery sea, that led the thoughts insensibly away, 
even from Jerusalem, to Europe and to home ! 

Fra' Gonzaga, the Biscayan monk, got up to se« me 
start, and in reply to my complaints of the musquitoes, 
observed, as if he was proud of them, " Non sono moltis- 
simi 1" He then glanced complacently at my breakfast- 
table, which was served with eatables that Ugolino would 
have shrunk from; and wished me t4 un buon' appetite/ 3 

ft 2 



228 



MARCH CF PILGRIMS. 



with a grim smile that had no relation whatever to a 
joke. 

Ramleh, the ancient Arimathea, was the seat of govern- 
ment in the Theocratic days of Israel : here Samuel 
judged the people, and here the elders of the Hebrews 
assembled to demand a king to rale over them. It is now 
a mean straggling town, without fortifications, but sur- 
rounded with gardens and olive groves, that give it some- 
what of a cheerful aspect. We passed through a ceme- 
tery in the twilight, and saw flocks of goats and sheep 
fallowing their shepherds to the pasture, from which they 
are driven into the town every evening. Many travellers 
were already on the road, collecting together for the pur- 
pose of security, and all furnished with some kind of arms, 
from the long musket to the cancljah in their girdle. 
Our way lay among wide plains, very scantily cultivated, 
and without a vestige of inhabitants ; the path was wide, 
and, though sandy, not deep enough to be laborious to the 
horses. After two hours' travel, we came to the ruins of 
Ekron — a fortress commanding the Passes into the Hill- 
country; then the road entered a defile of. rocky moun- 
tains; numerous shrubs, the laurustinus, the privet, and 
the bay-tree, were thickly scattered over the steep ac- 
clivities. Wilder and wilder grew the scenery at each 
winding of the road, toppling precipices closed round us, 
and our little party gathered closer together as they unslung 
their muskets — the van looking more like a storming 
party than a company of peaceful travellers. 

There is some instinctive love of danger in every breast; 
and, fortunately for our interest, a party had been robbed 
and ill-treated two days before in these defiles: the pre- 
parations therefore that we made were of a most imposing 
character. A fat old tobacconist and a lean barber rode 
on heroically as an advanced guard ; a couple of tinkers 
and a Turkish soldier brought up the rear ; three or four 
camels, half a dozen horsemen, w T ith a couple of donkeys 
carrying panniers of children, formed the main body, in 
which my anxious servants deeply ensconced themselves; 
while a young Swiss, three or four Turkish cavalry soldiers, 
and myself, gave our horses to be ridden by some of the 
tired pedestrians; while we ranged the cliffs as skir- 



THE HILL COUNTRY OF JUDEA. 



229 



mishers, in actual hope of a gazelle or partridge, and 
professed anticipation of an Arnaout, or some native 
robber. 

Soon becoming tired of playing at soldiers in a scene 
like this, I summoned my unwilling servants, and spurred 
forward as fast as almost inaccessible rocky paths would 
permit. I telt the utmost impatience to reach Jerusalem; 
and, moreover, a burning sun had been shining on us for 
many hours, and a well was before us. At length we 
reached it ; but — 

u Vain was the hope that had lured us on — 
Our trust in the desert ! the waters were gone." 

Some damp mud alone remained, which the muleteer and 
his horses rather chewed than drank. 

Henceforth, our path necessitated one perpetual climb, 
scramble, or slide: slippery rocks, yawning into deep 
fissures, or so round and smooth as to render firm footing 
impossible, constituted the only road. Yet this has been 
for four thousand years the highway between Jerusalem 
and the western plains that border on the sea. Chariots 
never could have been used here; and it would be impos- 
sible for cavalry to act, or even to advance against a 
hostile force. 

The scenery resembled that of the wildest glens of 
Scotland, only that here the grey crags were thickly tufted 
with aromatic shrubs; and, instead of the pine, the syca- 
more, the olive, and the palm, shaded the mountain's 
side. 

We passed by the village of Jeremiah, and " the Tere- 
binthine Vale." In the last we recognise the scene of 
David's combat with Goiiah, and its little brook still 
sparkles here as freshly as when he picked pebbles thence 
to smite the Philistine. Generally speaking, the river 
beds were as dry as the path we trod, and this was the 
only stream but one that I saw between Jaffa and the 
Jordan. A large caravan was assembled on its banks, 
with all its picturesque variety of laden camels, mules 
with gay trappings, mountain cavaliers with turban and 
embroidered vest, veiled women on donkeys, half-naked 
Arabs with long spears, dwellers in cities with dark 
kaftan, or furred pelisse. Ail, however various their 



230 



APPROACH TO JERUSALEM. 



nation, profession, or appearance, were eagerly quaffing 
the precious stream, or waiting under the u shadow of a 
high rock" for the caravan to proceed. 

The hills became more and more precipitous as we 
approached Jerusalem; most of them were of a conical 
form, and terraced to their summit. Yet, on these steep 
acclivities, the strenuous labour of the Israelite had for- 
merly grown corn, and wine and oil; and, on the terraces 
that remained uninjured, the few present inhabitants still 
plant wheat, and vineyards, and olive groves. There was 
no appearance of water, except the inference that might be 
drawn of wells within the few villages that hung upon the 
mountains' side. 

The pathway continued as rough as ever, while we 
wound through the rocky defiles leading to the upper 
plains ; but it was much more frequented, and I had 
joined a large and various company, for the sake of listen- 
ing to their talk about the city that now absorbed every 
other interest. At each acclivity we surmounted, we were 
told that the next would reveal to us the object of our 
destination; and at length, as we merged upon a wide and 
sterile plain, the leading pilgrims sank upon their knees — 
a contagious shout of enthusiasm burst from the excited 
wanderers; and every man of that large company — Arab, 
Italian, Greek, and Englishman — exclaimed— each in his 
own tongue — " El Khuds P " Gerusalemma !" " Hagio- 
polis!" "The Holy City!" 



JERUSALEM. 



201 



CHAPTER XXII. 

JERUSALEM. 

Of earth's dark circlet once the precious gem 
Of living light — O fallen Jerusalem ! 

SoUTHEY. 

Ecco ! apparir Gerusalera si vede ! 
Ecco ! da molti voci unitamente 
Gerusalemma salutar si sente. 

Tasso. 

It was indeed Jerusalem — and, had the Holy City 
risen before us in its palmiest days of magnificence and 
glory, it could not have created deeper emotion, or been 
gazed at more earnestly or with intenser interest. 

So long the object of eager hope and busy imagination, 
it stood before me at length in actual reality — the city of 
David, the chosen seat of God, the death-place of his Son, 
the object of the world's pilgrimage for two thousand 
years! All its history, so strangely blended with holiness 
and crime, with prosperity and desolation, with triumph 
and despair, and a thousand associations, came thronging 
into recollection, peopling its towers and surrounding 
plains with the scenes and actors of long, eventful years. 
These feelings I shared in common with the humblest pil- 
grim that was kneeling there, and. in some respects, he 
bad even the advantage of me; he had made infinitely 
greater sacrifices than I had done, and undergone far 
heavier toils to reach that bourne. Undistracted by mere 
temporal associations, he only saw the sacred spot wherein 
the Prophets preached, and David sung, and Christ had 
died. 

The whole cavalcade paused simultaneously when Jeru- 
salem appeared in view; the greater number fell upon 
their knees, and laid their foreheads in the dust, whilst a 
profound silence, more impressive than the loudest excla- 
mations, prevailed over all : even the Moslems gazed 
reverently on what was to them also a holy city, and 
recalled to mind the pathetic appeal of their forefather — 
"Hast thou not a blessing for me, also, my Father V 



232 



FIRST VIEW OP 



When the crusading army, thinned by pestilence, priva- 
tion, and many a, battle-field, gazed upon the view before 
as, that warrior-host knelt down as a single man; sobs 
burst from their mailed bosoms, and tears streamed down 
their rugged cheeks. Those tears, and not the blood so 
profusely shed upon the plains of Palestine, were the true 
evidences of the Crusading spirit. 

Apart from all associations, the first view of Jerusalem 
is a most striking one. A brilliant and unchequered sun- 
shine has something mournful in it, when all that it shines 
upon is utterly desolate and drear. Not a tree or green 
spot is visible; no sign of life breaks the solemn silence; 
no smile of nature's gladness ever varies the stern scenery 
around. The flaming, monotonous sunshine above, and 
the pale, distorted, rocky wastes beneath, realize but too 
faithfully the prophetic picture — u Thy sky shall be brass, 
and thy land shall be iron." To the right and left, as far 
as the eye can reach, vague undulations of colourless rocks 
extend to the horizon. A broken and desolate plain in 
front is bounded by a wavy, battlemented wall, over which 
towers frown, and minarets peer, and mosque-domes swell, 
intermingled with church-turrets and an indistinguishable 
mass of terraced roofs. High over the city, to the left, 
rises the Mount of Olives ; and the distant hills of Moab 
almost mingling with the sky, afford a background to the 
striking picture. 

There was something startlingly new and strange in that 
wild, shadowless landscape; the clear outlines of the hills, 
and the city walls — so colourless, yet so w r ell defined against 
the naked sky — gave to the whole a most unreal appear- 
ance; it resembled rather an immense mezzotinto engrav- 
ing, than anything that nature and nature's complexion had 
to do with. 

I am not sure that this stern scenery did not present the 
only appearance that would not disappoint expectation. 
It is unlike anything else on earth — so blank to the eye, 
yet so full of meaning to the heart; every mountain round 
is familiar to the memory; even yon blasted fig-tree has its 
voice, and the desolation that surrounds us bears silent 
testimony to fearful experiences. The plain upon which 
we stand looks like the arena of deadly struggles in times 



JERUSALEM. 



233 



gone by — struggles in which all the mighty nations of the 
earth took part, and in which Nature herself seems to 
have shared. 

Each of our party had waited for the other to finish his 
devotions, and seemed to respect each pilgrim's feelings 
with a Christian courtesy, perhaps inspired by the spot. 
At length, all had risen from their genuflexions and pros- 
trations, and we moved slowly forward over the rugged 
yet slippery path which human feet had worn in the solid 
rock. Countless had been the makers of that path — 
Jebusites, Hebrews, Chaldeans, Assyrians, Egyptians, 
Romans, Saracens, Crusaders, and pilgrims from every 
country under heaven. As we advanced, some olive-trees 
appeared, and deep valleys on the left, slightly marked 
with pale, green gardens. An enclosure concealed the 
prospect for a while, and then again the City of Zion 
appeared, shadowing with its battlemented walls the 
barren rocks around. As we approached, nothing but 
these walls were visible, presenting, probably, with their 
massive gates and lofty towers, the same appearance as 
they wore to the Crusader's view : here and there a tur- 
baned head was visible, and the Crescent banner was 
waving from David's tower; a few tents, green, white, and 
blue, were scattered round, as if forsaken in a hurry; and 
all else looked as if it had been laid waste in order to 
afford no shelter to an enemy. 

I had always pictured to myself Jerusalem as standing 
upon lofty hills, and visible from afar. It is, on the con- 
trary, on the edge of the wide platform by which we 
approach from Jaffa, and is commanded by the Mount of 
Olives, the Hill of Scopas, and other eminences, from 
which it is divided by the deep and narrow ravines called 
the valley of Jehoshaphat, and the Vale of Hinnom. 
These ravines meet in the form of a Y, the lower part of 
which describes the precipitous glen through which the 
brook Kedron flows in winter to the Dead Sea. 

The site of the city is in itself unique; selected origi- 
nally from the strength of its position only, it offers none 
of the features usually to be found surrounding the metro- 
polis of a powerful people. No river nor any stream 
flows by; no fertility surrounds it, no commerce is able to 



234 



JERUSALEM. 



approach its walls, no thoroughfare of nations it finds in 
the way. It seems to stand apart from the world, exempt 
from its passions, its ambitions, and even its prosperity. 
Like the high-priest who once ministered in its temple, it 
stands solitary, and removed from all secular influences, 
and receives only those who come to worship at its myste- 
ries. All the other cities of the earth are frequented by 
votaries of gain, science, luxury, or glory; Zion offers 
only privations to the pilgrim's body, solemn reflection for 
his thoughts, awe for his soul ; her palaces are ruins, her 
hostels are dreary convents, her chief boast and triumph 
is a sepulchre. 

After some resistance from the Turkish sentinels, I 
entered the Pilgrims 5 Gate under a lofty archway, and 
found myself in Jerusalem ! 

On the left within the walls is a waste place strewed 
with ruins, and containing a broken cistern, called the 
" Pool of Bathsheba;" on the right is pointed out the Hill 
of Zion, whereon "David's tower" maintains its ground in 
tradition, if not in truth. From this open space three 
streets, or rather roads (for they are almost houseless), 
branch off ; that to the left leads to Calvary and the con- 
vent of the Terra Santa; that to the right to Mount Zion, 
the English church, and Armenian convent ; and that 
straight onward, to Mount Moriah, where stands the 
Mosque of Omar and the collection of villages that is 
called the city. 

I betook myself to the hospice of the Latin convent, 
where I found a whitewashed cell and an iron bedstead at 
my disposal. It was dismal enough; but long travel under 
a Syrian sun prevents one from feeling fastidious, and it ill 
becomes a pilgrim to complain on Calvary. 

The convent, whose guest I now found myself, is the 
wealthiest and most influential of all those situated in 
Palestine. It is called by distinction the Convent of the 
Terra Santa, and has possessions handed down from the 
times of Godfrey de Bouillon. The other Latin convents 
in Syria pay deference to this, the chief guardian of the 
Holy Sepulchre. 

Mounting a fresh horse, I repassed the gate by which 1 



JERUSALEM. 



255 



had entered on the southern side, and, with no guide but 
memory, rode forth to make a circuit of the city, "to walk 
round about her, and mark well her battlements." Sadly 
has all been changed since this proud challenge was spoken, 
yet the walls are still towering and imposing in their 
effect. They vary in height from twenty to sixty feet, 
according to the undulations of the ground; and are every- 
where in good repair. The columns and architraves (at 
least as old as the Roman-conquered city), that are worked 
into these walls instead of ruder stones, bear eloquent 
testimony to the different nature of their predecessors. A 
bridle-path leads close to their base all round; the valleys 
of Hinnom and Jehoshaphat yawn suddenly beneath them 
on the west, south, and north, separating them from Mount 
Gihon, the Hill of Evil Counsel, and the Mount of Olives. 
These hills are utterly barren, and lonely as fear can make 
them. Though within gunshot of the city, robberies are 
here committed with impunity, and few people venture to 
leave the walls without being well armed and attended. 
The deep gloom of the Valley of Hinnom; the sterility 
of all around; the silence and desolation so intense, yet so 
close to the city; the sort of memory with which I could 
trace each almost familiar spot, from the Tower of Hip- 
picus to the Hill of Scopas, made this the most interesting 
excursion I ever undertook. Now we look down upon 
the Pool and Valley of Gihon from the summit of Mount 
Zion; now upon the Vale of Hinnom, with the Pool of 
Siloam, and Aceldama beyond the brook ; now over 
Mount Moiiah, with the Valley of Jehoshaphat beneath, 
and the village of Siloam on the opposite side, scattered 
along the banks where Ivedron used to flow. Then, pass- 
ing through the Turkish cemetery and over the brook 
Kedron, we come to the venerable Garden of Gethsemane, 
in which, say the legends, still stand the olive-trees that 
sheltered Christ. This garden is only a small grove, 
occupying perhaps two acres of ground, but it is one of 
the best authenticated scenes of interest about Jerusalem. 
From it, a steep and rocky path leads to the three summits 
of the Mount of Olives, on the loftiest of which stands 
the Church of the Ascension. An Armenian priest 
admitted me into the sacred enclosure, motioned to a little 



236 



JERUSALEM. 



monk to lead about my horse, and led the way in silence 
to the roof of .the church. From hence is the most 
interesting, if not the most striking, view in the world. 

From such a summit might the great Leader of the 
People have viewed the land which was to be the reward 
of their desert wanderings. From it, is laid bare every 
fibre of the great heart of Palestine. The atmosphere is 
like a crystal lens, and every object in the Holy City is as 
clear as if it lay within a few yards', instead of a mile's 
distance. Each battlement upon those war-worn walls, 
each wild flower that clusters over them, is visible,: the 
dogs prowling about the waste places among the ruins, 
and cactus, and cypress ; the turban ed citizens slowly 
moving in the streets ; all are recognizable almost as 
clearly as the prominent features of the city. 

The eminence called Mount Moriah lies nearest to our 
view, just above the narrow valley of Jehoshaphat. The 
city wall passes over the centre of it, embracing a wide 
enclosure, studded with cypresses and cedars, in the 
centre of which stands the magnificent Mosque of Omar. 
This is of a very light, fantastic architect are, bristling 
with points, and little spires, and minarets; many of these 
have gilded crescents that flash and gleam in the sun- 
shine; while the various groups of Moslems, sitting on 
bright carpets, or slowly wandering among the groves, 
give life and animation to the scene. The Mosque 
occupies the site of the Temple, and is held holy by the 
Moslem as the spot whereon Abraham offered Isaac for a 
sacrifice. To the left of the mosque-enclosure, within the 
walls, is a space covered with rubbish and jungles of the 
prickly pear; then part of the Hill of Zion, and David's 
Tower. To the right of the enclosure is the Pool of 
Bethesda, beyond which St. Stephen's Gate affords en- 
trance to the Via Dolorosa, a steep and winding street 
along which Christ bore the Cross in his ascent to 
Calvary. To the right of this street, and towards the 
north, stands the hill of Acra, on which Salem, the most 
ancient part of the city, was built, they say, by Melchi- 
fcedek. This hill is enclosed by the walls of the modern 
town; but the hill of Bezetha lies yet further to the right, 
and was enclosed within the walls that the Komans 



JERUSALEM. 



237 



stormed. Beyond Bezetha stands the Hill of Scopas, 
wherefrom Titus gazed upon Jerusalem the day before 
its destruction, and wept for the sake of the beautiful 
city. 

But from the Hill on which we stand, One other also 
wept over that fated city. No conquering armies lay 
around it then; luxury and plenty revelled among its 
marble palaces; there was then large hope on earth, and 
a new hope just dawned that lighted up the dark passage 
of the grave, and showed through its narrow vista a 
glorified image of that city so dear to its inhabitants — a 
new Jerusalem. In vain that hope ! The indomitable 
Jew had once before impatiently rejected God as his 
king, and demanded a being like himself " to reign over 
him:" he now refused to listen to Him, albeit of the 
house of David, who by his own confession " spake as 
never man spake;" and even, in his perverseness, boasted 
"that he had no king but Caesar." Then, indeed, "did 
the sceptre depart from Israel." Foreign banners might 
wave upon her towers, foreign tyrants might grind her 
with oppression ; but a nation never can know slavery 
until its spirit is voluntarily bowed beneath the yoke. 

Whatever beauty may have distinguished the city in 
the day of its evil pride, there is little now within the 
wide enclosure of its walls to claim an interest, except 
the unchangeable hills on which it stands. Here and 
there is a cluster of flat-roofed buildings, then a space 
bewildered with weeds and ruins; here is a busy street, 
with vines sheltering its bazaars, and coloured crowds 
streaming through it; and there is a deserted garden, 
with a few dreary olive-trees and cypresses shading its 
burnt soil; here is a mosque, with its heavy dome and its 
pert minarets; and there is the capacious church that 
covers the Holy Sepulchre. 

The eye wanders away with a feeling of relief from this 
most mournful city to the wide, strange prospect that 
surrounds it. Far to the south, we look over the barren 
but magnificent hills of Judah, with vistas through their 
rocky glens of the rich valley of the Jordan, and the 
calm, green waters of the Dead Sea, whose surface gleam » 
on either side of a foreground formed by the lofty village 



238 JERUSALEM. 

of Bethany. Eeyond Jordan and the Sea of the Plain, 

the mountains of the Moabites tower into the clear blue 
sky, and are reflected in brown and purple shadows on 
their own dark, mysterious Lake. 

Beneath us is the Garden of Gethsemane. the Valley of 
Hinnom with its Tophet. and the Vale of Jehoshaphat 
with its brook Kedron. which meets the waters of Siloam 
at the Well of Job. The Tombs of the Kings, of Xehe- 
niiah, of Absalom, and of the Judges, lie before us; the 
caves of the Prophets everywhere pierce the rocks, that 
have so often resounded to the war-cry of the Chaldean, 
the Roman, the Saracen, and the Crusader. Beyond the 
city spreads the Vale of Rephaim, with Bethlehem ir the 
distance: every ruck, and hill, and valley that is visible 
bears some name that has rung in history. And then the 
utter desolation that everywhere prevails — as if all was 
over with that land, and the "'''rocks had indeed fallen, 
and the hills indeed had covered" the mighty, the beauti- 
ful and the brave, who once dwelt there in prosperity and 
peace. No flocks, no husbandman, nor any living thing 
is there, except a group of timid travellers — torbaned 
figures, and veiled women, and a file of camels — winding 
along the precipitous pathway under the shadows of the 
palms. 

Descending from the Mount of Olives, I re-entered the 
city by St. Stephen's Gate,, where Turkish soldiers con- 
stantly keep guard; turning to the left, I visited the Pool 
of Bethesda, and then wandered slowly along the Via 
Dolorosa, in which is pointed out each spot where the 
Saviour fell under the burden of the Cross, as he bore it 
to Calvary along this steep and rugged way. 

In after days I impatiently traversed the squalid city, 
with a monk for my guide, in search of its various locali- 
ties of traditionary sanctity; but I will not ask the reader 
to stoop to such a labour. My monkish cicerone pointed 
o □ I to me where Dives lived, where Lazarus lay, where 
the cock crowed or roosted that warned Peter of his 
crime, and even where the blessed Virgin used to wash 
her son's linen. It is difficult to speak of such things 
gravely; and yet I woul 1 not have one light feeling or 
expression intermingled with the solemn subjects of whid 



JERUSALEM. 



239 



this chapter attempts to treat: when we visit Marathon 
or Salamis, it would shame us to be insensible to their 
heroic associations; and the pilgrim who can scoff within 
the walls of Jerusalem does his heart as little justice. 

The character of the city within corresponds with that 
of the country without. Most of it is very solitary and 
silent; echo answers to your horse's tread; frequent waste 
places, among which the wild dog prowls, convey an in- 
describable impression of desolation; and it is not only 
these waste places that give such an air of loneliness to 
the city, but many of the streets themselves, dark, dull, 
and mournful-looking, seem as if the Templars' armed 
tread were the last to which they had resounded. The 
bazaars and places of business are confined to one small 
quarter of the city; everywhere else you generally find 
yourself alone. No one is even there to point out your 
way ; and you come unexpectedly upon the Pool of 
Bethesda, or wander among the vaulted ruins of the 
Hospitallers' courts without knowing it. The remains of 
the ancient city that meet your eye are singularly few; 
here and there a column is let into the wall, or you find 
that the massive and uneven pavement is of costly marble; 
but, except the Pools of Hezekiah and Bethesda, the 
Tower of Hippicus, and some few other remains preserved 
on account of their utility, there is little of art to assist 
the memory to the Past. 

The chief place of interest in Jerusalem is the Holy 
Sepulchre, whose site I believe to be as real, as the pano- 
rama that the priests have gathered round it must needs 
be false. You descend by a narrow lane and a flight of 
steps into a small enclosure, where a guard of Turkish 
soldiers is stationed to keep peace among the Christians. 
After paying tribute to this infidel police, you enter into a 
large circular hall, supported by a colonnade of eighteen 
pillars, and surrounded by a large dome, in the centre of 
which is a pavilion containing the Holy Sepulchre. The 
whole of this church has been so frequently described, that 
I shall only mention that within its walls are condensed an 
array of all the events incidental to the crucifixion — the 
place where Christ w r as scourged; the hole in the rock 
where the Cross stood; the fissure where the rock waa 



240 



JERUSALEM. 



rent in twain; the place where the soldiers cast lots for the 
garments; the stone whereon the body was anointed, and 
lastly, the grave wherein it was laid. 

According to monkish topography, Calvary was only a 
few yards from the sepulchre, which itself is so altered and 
adorned as entirely to destroy every appearance of reality. 
Neither from research nor personal observation, have I any 
right to offer an opinion on the subject; but I incline to 
believe that this is the site of the Sepulchre; and I see no 
great reason to deny that Calvary (never mentioned as a 
hill in the sacred writings) might have occupied a neigh- 
bouring locality. Although within the present enclosure 
of the city-walls, it perhaps might also have been outside 
the ancient circuit, which is necessary to its identity. Tra- 
dition must have been more idle than is her wont, if she 
permitted such a site to be forgotten. The actual spot 
occupied by the Cross appears entirely devoid of proof;"' 
but it seems evident that the place assigned to it, within a 
dozen yards of the Sepulchre, is the least likely of all. 

It is said that Golgotha was called " the place of a skull/' 
because Adam's was found there, " who desired to be buried 
where he knew, prophetically, that the Redeemers blooa 
should fall upon his grave." 

* I have great pleasure in referring the learned reader to a very 
valuable dissertation on the topography of Jerusalem, by my friend 
Dr. Schultz, consul to the King of Prussia. It was published ac 
Berlin since the 4th edition of this work appeared, and is entitles 
<: Jerusalem : Eine Vorlesung, von Dr. Ernst Gust. Schultz, rc't 
einem Flan von Jerusalem von Kiepert," 



THE MONK. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE MONK, THE MISSIONARY, AND THE PILGRIM. 

On the whole, we do entirely agree with those old monks, 
Laborare est Orare. In a thousand senses, from one end of it to the 
other, true Work is Worship,, 

Past and Present — Carlyle. 

We distinguish, my good father, betwixt those who only eat the 
bread of their own labour, and those who eat the bread of other 
people ; and who have no other plan in life, but to get through 
it in sloth and ignorance, for the love of God. 

Sterne. 

Forsaking country, kindred, friends, and ease, he goes forth with 
the blessed gospel into pagan climes, to bear the light of eternal life 
to those that lie in darkness and the shadow of death. 

R. M'Ghee. 

It was perhaps a natural sentiment that drove enthu- 
siasts in the earlier and stormier ages of the church to seek 
in retirement " that j>eace which the world could not give:" 
they might also have remembered that there was a peace 
which the world could not take away. But in the first 
burst of a new enthusiasm no second thought was 
admitted; men of devout faith and exemplary piety had 
retired to the desert for the purpose of a closer communion 
with their God; they had announced to an anxious and 
fearful world that, like the typical wanderers of Israel, they 
had found a path through the desert to the heavenly Canaan 
— that they felt their salvation assured by living among 
reptiles and wild beasts, and assimilating the human life to 
theirs. Away then to the desert rushed multitudes, zealous 
for their souls 5 prosperity. There, the stormy heart was to 
find peace, the broken spirit consolation, despair itself to 
be transmuted into hope. 

The man who first discovers treasure in a secret place 
may become enriched thereby, but they who follow will 
probably find only rubbish. The lofty minds of an Anthony 
and Pachomius had grown not only to strength but to 
power in the hermit's ceil, and thousands hastened to seek 

R 



242 



THE MONK. 



for piety in the wilderness, as if it were some curious 
natural production that grew there only. The very desert 
ceased to be deserted; the solitudes of Egypt and Syria 
became peopled with gloomy dreamers, who seemed to 
think it was on the body, not the soul, that the weight of 
sin so heavily lay. These selfish zealots found, no doubt, a 
fierce luxury in penance and privation — and devils must 
have chuckled to see the body that God had made so strong, 
and fair, and comely — emaciated, disfigured, and disgraced 
by starvation and the scourge : the soul that had been 
given for the exercise of genial thought, and love and friend- 
ship, shrouded by perpetual gloom, and for ever harping, 
like the ailing body, upon its own sordid self. Yet these 
men were and are called Catholic! 

There were some victims of this literal 7?io?iomania, like 
some of the knights in the darker ages of chivalry, who 
displayed a spirit, philanthropy, and understanding, sin- 
gularly at issue with their narrow profession. Men travelled 
into the desert to seek for dispassionate advice in secular 
affairs from such hermits, and to stimulate their faith in 
spiritual matters by a glimpse at their wild zeal. St. 
Anthony is generally considered the chief of the Solitaries : 
he lived for twenty years in a ruined castle on the banks 
of the Nile, and was the friend of Athanasius, who made 
use of his testimony against the Arians, as if it were the 
voice of Heaven that spoke through him. 

According to the Oriental Christians, the Sethites, or 
" Sons of God," set the first example of the monastic life 
by retiring to Mount Hermon, in the hope of regaining 
their lately lost Paradise by the sanctity and purity of 
their lives : despairing at last of this, or weary of celibacy, 
they descended to the plains, where, intermarrying with 
" the daughters of men," — their kinswomen, through Cain 
— they begot the giants.* 

Hilar ion was the founder of the Christian monastic state 
in Syria, and St. Basil in Pontus. The spirit spread 
rapidly throughout the East with various modifications, 
and seems to have arrived at its climax in the person of 
Simeon Stylites, who raised himself (on a pillar) to the 
highest consideration in the monastic world, and was 
* D'tlerbelot: F. Schlegel's Phil, of Hist. 



THE MONK, 



243 



visited on his pious percli by emperors. At this period, 
e™ry conspicuous spot in Syria swarmed with human 
wearers of horses' hair, and feeders on horses' provender. 
Every dirty cavern and uncomfortable hole in the cliffs of 
Mar Saba had its solitary (if such they could be called, 
when 10,000 of them are said to have been destroyed in 
one massacre by the Saracens). 

Gradually the monastic spirit changed into the Cceno- 
bitic; the monks adapted La Bruyere's principle of soli- 
tude, and thought its advantages would be improved by 
having some one to communicate with upon the subject : 
St. Pachomius has the credit of founding this Coenobitical 
or conventual life. I have not space to follow these esta- 
blishments through their varied history. They spread 
into Europe, and soon became so remiss (to use a mild 
term) in their conduct, that public indignation perhaps 
prompted, and certainly assisted St. Odo in their reforma- 
tion in the eleventh century, The monasteries were then 
placed under the immediate protection of the Pope, and 
the bishops were deprived of all control over them. Then 
were founded the different u religious orders" that have 
since spread over the Christian world, and have each its 
representative at Jerusalem. 

When a blighted name or blighted hope has changed 
the heart to stone, a mouk"s cowl, like moss upon a ruin, 
may seem to become it- well, but it is an indulgence, not a 
penance. The convent vow is a sort of moral suicide, by 
which the life- weary spirit, deserting its post, seeks refuge 
in a living tomb: the braver soul, "though faint and 
worn, unconquered still," tramples down its enervating 
sorrow, and seeks in action the means of rebuilding the 
ruined fabric of its hope on a firmer and worthier founda- 
tion. Many a desperate man, in the passionate and 
troubled ages preceding the Crusades, who could not brook 
the torpor of the hermit life, embraced with eagerness 
some painful pilgrimage or arduous enterprise that might 
employ his energies, while it substituted a new object for 
that which he had lost. Then the religious orders of 
knighthood were invented, and the ranks of the Templars 
and Hospitallers became filled with such numbers of volun- 
teers as prove that the attributed romance of that period 

R 2 * 



244 



THE HOSPITALLERS, 



is not exaggerated. Some few zealous religionists devoted 
themselves at first to offices of charity, and to the protec- 
tion of pilgrims on their way to Jerusalem : of these, aged 
matrons and youthful maidens, be it remembered, formed 
a large proportion. This circumstance gave to the young 
institution an air of romance, and an infusion of chivalry; 
with these elements, it rapidly increased : its members 
at first called themselves " poor fellow-soldiers of Jesus 
Christ;" but, being allotted quarters within the inclosures 
of the Temple, they assumed the Templars' name. 

The union of devotion paid chivalry, the most powerful 
and congenial stimulants of human nature, proved still 
more attractive than even the solitary fanaticism : enthu- 
siasts, who might have shrunk from the pilgrim's staff, 
seized eagerly the sword, and grasped at the dear privilege 
of being men of violence in this world, and certain angels 
in the next.* 

The church beheld a means of acquiring powerful auxi- 
liaries in the hosts that now thronged to the monk-martial 
ranks : St. Bernard organized them in due religious form, 
and the Pope declared himself their special bishop. The 
Templars appointed their first grand roaster, Hugh de 
Payens, early in the twelfth century, and the Hospitallers 
appear as a military body only a few years later. The 
former at first became popular all over Christian Europe, 
and had immense possessions assigned to them, in England 
especially. Those of Palestine died, as became them, with 
the cause they served; but those of France and England, 
having no cause to sustain or be sustained by, fell under 
the popular ban, and were extirpated by Philip the Fair 
and Edward II. 

The order of the Hospitallers originated in some pious 
persons attending two hospitals established at Jerusalem 
for pilgrims in the 11th century : it was not until many 
years afterwards that they imitated the Templars in be- 
coming a military order, though they bore an equally 
distinguished part in the Crusades. While the Templars 
soon sunk into luxury — hated as universally as feared — 

Plenary indulgence was granted not only to the Templars and 
Hospitallers, but to every Crusader; none ever required it more, or 
cade more liberal use of the immunity. 



CONVENTS. 



245 



the Hospitallers, as Knights of St. John, maintained their 
honourable character and popularity in the island of 
Rhodes and Malta, until their order was all but destroyed 
by Buonaparte, in 1798. Their distinguishing dress was 
a black mantle with a white cross; and they were bound, 
like their Templar and Teutonic brethren, by the vows of 
chastity, poverty, and obedience. 

The Templars wore a white mantle, emblematic of the 
purity supposed to be assumed by the proiessing knight; 
on it was a red cross, the sign of devotion to the Holy 
cause, instead of the usual device of gallantry or chivalry. 
Their banner was of black and white, and bore the epithet 
of Beau, or Bien-seant, intimating, in the language of the 
time, that they were fair towards their friends, but dark 
and terrible to their enemies.* 

During the time of the Crusades, there were few or no 
peaceful conventual establishments in Palestine. Whether 
it was that monkery became fused into chivalry, or that 
monasteries could not exist in the open country, and were 
obliged to arm in Jerusalem, I know not; but the monks 
of the Latin convent of the Terra Santa maintain that 
theirs is the only " House of Peace" that existed in the 
last crusade. 

After the capture of Acre by the Sultan's Tartars and 
Mamelukes in 1291, the Crescent shone triumphantly over 
the whole of Palestine : by such a light History has never 
been able to see her way, and we lose sight of the country 
and its inhabitants until 1432, when La Broquere achieved 
a pilgrimage : he found only two monks in Jerusalem, and 
they were in most cruel thraldom. In 1507, Baumgarten 
found a monastery of Franciscans, who were able to afford 
him shelter and security. Thenceforth, a more liberal or 
politic spirit seems to have animated the rulers of this 

* There were several other orders of monastic knighthood, such as 
the Teutonic, whence arose the kingdom of Prussia ; the order of St. 
Lazarus, that of Calatrava, in Spain, &c. ; but those of the Temple, 
and Hospital, or of St. John, absorb all Crusade interest. Their 
rivalry increasing with their prosperity, soon turned into hatred and 
hostility ; they even leagued with Moslem powers against each other, 
and in 1258, actually fought out their claims to superiority in a fair 
field without other combatants. The Knights of St. John were 
victorious, and scarcely a Templar remained alive. 



246 



CONTEXTS. 



doomed land, for pilgrimages became comparatively safe; 
the Christian religion was actually almost respected, until 
England unfortunately restored Jerusalem to the Turks, 
and then tamely permitted them to prohibit the building 
of her church. 

At present, there are numerous convents in Jerusalem, 
which have each their chapel in the church of the Holy 
Sepulchre. The Latin convent of the Terra Santa ranks 
first in antiquity and possessions, and is under the protec- 
tion of the King of the French; its chapel is plain, but the 
most extensive in the edifice. 

The Greek convent comes next in point of the number 
of its pilgrims, which involves that of its wealth ; there 
are also Armenian, Coptic, Abyssinian, and Maronite 
convents at Jerusalem, and, indeed, all the creeds of the 
Christian world have their representatives here. It is 
a marvellous sight, and one to make a spectator thought- 
ful, to see those rival sectaries bending over the Tomb 
whence all their hopes have risen, each believing that 
his own proud heart contains the only real hope — each 
setting his miserable yet complicated and intolerant 
heresy above the grand and genial truth, and exalting 
the bye-laws of his sect above the Magna Charta of the 
soul. 

Far be it from me to bring a sweeping accusation 
against any body of men, especially against the silent 
and defenceless victims of monastic enthusiasm. I would 
fain believe that many of these isolated beings serve God 
in singleness and purity of heart ; I would fain hope that 
many have found peace in those dark cells, for which 
they have exchanged the bright world to which they 
were born heirs — heirs of freedom, light, and life. But 
what can be said in defence of those who prostitute the 
Sacred Mysteries to Mammon — who profane the very 
sepulchre of Christ with the foulest falsehood and the 
blackest hypocrisy? 

By the grave of the mortal friend we have loved and 
lost on earth, men meet even their enemies in peace ; but, 
at the Saviour's Tomb, the infidel watches with drawn 
sabre to prevent his followers from destroying one an- 
other. At this tomb, the chiefs of two rival and hating 



THE MISSIONARY. 



247 



creeds unite for once on Easter Eve, but it is in the cause 
of fraud. Enclosed within the chapel, Greek and Arme- 
nian bishops call down fire from heaven by the appro- 
priate means of a Lucifer-match ! Greek and Armenian 
pilgrims strive madly to light their torches at this sacred 
fiame; and priests of other faiths stand scorning by — 
in their turn to triumph in some other dastard super- 
stition. 

I now turn, with something of satisfaction but little 
triumph, to the ministers of the reformed faith in 
Palestine. 

There is marvellously little of a practical and active 
missionary spirit to be found among the ministers of the 
Reformed Church, considering the warm interest the laity 
take in the matter.'" It appears strange that, in a life 
so full of enterprise in the holiest cause, so well calcu- 
lated for the exercise of energy, genius, and Christian 
charity, — the young and ardent spirits of our universities 
do not more frequently volunteer in the missionary cause. 
Assuming, as a truth, that the Hebrew lies in bondage 
in that very land where the liberty of the soul was first 
preached to man through Hebrew lips ; assuming that, 
under the banner of our faith, that liberty alone is to be 
found; — is the old crusading spirit so dead amongst us, 
that no one will now bear the banner of the Cross once 
more to Palestine in a purer cause? When worldly gain 
or worldly glory may be won, where are the dangers, the 
climate, or the savages, that deter the enterprising sons 
of England? While the fatal coasts of Demerara and the 
pestilential islands of the Chinese seas swarm with adven- 
turers in the cause of conquest and of commerce, the 
Holy Land — the Land of Promise to us as to them of old 
— remains without one volunteer from the ranks of our 
Universities. Oxford contents herself with Jerusalem 
in the abstract, and has not a single representative of her 
principles in the cradle of the Fathers: yet she might 
there freely exercise her ascetic discipline, and, perhaps, 
edify those who cling to the memory of the ancient 
Eremites. Cambridge sends annually some three or four 

* Last year, the Church of England Missionary subscriptions 
amount to £l 16,827 18*.- 11^. 



248 



THE MISSIONARY. 



hundred students to swell the ranks of the church mili- 
tant, for which, however, they are content to keep garri- 
son in quiet glebe and peaceful parsonage — Palestine 
knows not their name. With respect to the Dublin 
University, it has the task of educating the priesthood 
of a church that is too truly missionary in its own green 
isle. When I was in Syria, there was not an English 
missionary who had taken a University degree ; nor, with 
one exception, was there a Christian-born minister of our 
church. 

Nevertheless, her cause is not the less faithfully served 
by the courageous few who sustain the responsibility of 
representing the primitive pure faith in Palestine ; that 
faith for which England has laboured so patiently in the 
closet, and fought so fiercely in the battle-field. 

Honour to that faithful few who uphold the name and 
character of our church ! — exiled from society, and all the 
advantages of civilization; wearing away their lives in a 
dangerous climate, in a lonely land; sustained only by the 
consciousness of their high calling, uncheered even by suc- 
cess — they live, and watch, and work, and die, — half for- 
gotten by their countrymen, and entirely unknown to 
fame. Honour to their brave hearts ! and may brighter 
prospects yet arise to cheer them in their arduous path of 
duty ! 

The American missionaries have an establishment at 
Jerusalem, and also at Beyrout, and the Lebanon ; two of 
their clergymen and a physician reside among their moun- 
tains, and board, lodge, and educate about fifty pupils 
there. These are the children of Druses, Maronites, or 
Greeks; no Moslem ever entering a Christian school. The 
Americans have a printing-press, from which they issue a 
considerable number of Arabic tracts, and copies of the 
Scriptures for distribution among the people; but, on the 
whole, their labours have not been rewarded by any consi- 
derable success,-' 1 

* I have lately heard from the Lebanon that the Americans Vave 
now fifteen schools, including those at Beyrout, Husbeia, and through- 
out the Lebanon. Their missionaries are devout and zealous men, 
though Presbyterians, and have, probably, produced a deeper effect 
than is at present apparent. The Oriental churches are much attached 



JEWISH CONVERTS. 



249 



One of the most efficient means by which prejudices 
against the missionaries of our own and other churches 
are removed, and a sense -of obligation inspired and 
constantly renewed is that of the medical establishments 
connected with the missions. Dr. M'Gowan, an able and 
intelligent physician, presides over that at Jerusalem, and 
distributes advice and medicine gratuitously to crowds who 
seek for his assistance. Dr. Kearns, another excellent 
physician, presided over a similar establishment at Bey- 
rout : unfortunately for Syria, he has lately been ordained 
to an English living.* 

The service of our church is performed twice every 
Sunday at Jerusalem by the bishop and one of the clergy 
attached to the mission. In the morning, the service is 
read in English; in the afternoon in German, for the sake 
of the Jewish converts. There is a neat little chapel in 
the enclosure, purchased by the mission, which, however, 
is only intended for temporary occupation while the church 
is being built. The congregation consisted of about thirty 
persons when I was there, among whom were the bishop's 
and the missionaries' families, the Prussian consul, one or 
two strangers, and eight converted Jews. 

I have before alluded to the fact of permission having 
been granted by Mehemet Ali for the building of our 
church; under his government, the walls were raised to the 
height of about two feet: England expelled the Egyptians 
from Syria, and gave Jerusalem to the Turks; they, in 
return, at once put a stop to our nascent church, alleging a 
quibble of Moslem law, which forbids the construction, or 
even reparation, of any place ot Christian worship. Thus, 
for nearly three years, the British church at Jerusalem was 

to the Episcopal form of church government, and, therefore, our 
missionaries would generally be better received. We have not one 
in all the East, except those sent specially to the Jews — the most 
hopeless, unprofitable of all. The intelligent, well disposed people of 
the Lebanon have no Church of England missionaries. (T. K.) 

* It may be taken as a proof of the efficacy of this most practical 
Christian charity, that the generous and enlightened Sir Moses Monte- 
nore, has lately sent over a Hebrew physician to Jerusalem. I heard 
from Dr. M/Gowan that his practice was not in the least diminished 
by the arrival of this rival in his charitable labours, whom he spoke of 
as a gentleman of learning and liberality. 



250 



THE PILGRIM. 



suffered to exist only as a subject for Moslem iusult and 
heretical scoff. 



As the soldier-spirit seems epidemic wherever armies 
meet, and even the landsman feels something of the sailor 
stir within him as the ship that bears him battles with the 
waves; so one inevitably experiences something of the 
pilgrim enthusiasm on approaching Jerusalem, and endea- 
vours to cherish the feeling as if it were a religion in 
itself. In such a mood, even the traveller who professes a 
more spiritual faith might kneel upon Calvary, and pros- 
trate himself at the Holy Sepulchre as a mere sentiment, 
if awe of the sacred places did not dispel every illusion, 
and sternly call upon the startled soul to put off' all dis- 
guise. Not so the professed pilgrim — the very ceremonies 
and the actor in them, from which we shrink as from a 
mockery, exercise a power and a spell over his excited 
heart: the gilding and ornaments, the painted altar and 
embroidered priest, the pealing organ and the fragrant in- 
cense — all are full of mystery and awe to those for whom 
they are intended. Take, then, one brief glance at that 
sepulchre; visit the reputed Calvary, for the sake of the 
association that can realize its own locality; pause not to 
scoff at, to condemn, or coldly scrutinize, the wrapt wor- 
shippers around you — but go forth in the humble hope that 
your faith is right, and that, whatever church-name you 
may be called by, your heart is Catholic. 

Let us leave to tbose who make livelihood by them such 
scenes as the house where Mary dwelt, where Dives 
revelled, and where dogs licked the sores of Lazarus; the 
spot where the cock crew, the cavern where Peter wept. 
Enough for us, that on this soil the Saviour laid down his 
life — so transcendently heroic, so meekly humble : enough 
for us, that these skies above us received Him risen, and 
still bespeak his presence. Pensively let us ascend the 
rugged Road of Sorrow,* along which the Cross was pain- 
fully borne; mournfully let us stand on Calvary ; then 
gratefully turn to the Mount of Olives — in pilgrim lan- 
guage, the Mount of Blessing — and breathe a prayer that 
the experience of that day may not be lost on the soul. — - 
* Via Dolorosa. 



THE PILGRIM'S MARCH. 



251 



We envy not the man who can merge the pilgrim in the 
traveller, and the believer in the antiquary. 

Often have I wandered among the desolate enclosures of 
Jerusalem by the moon's mournful light, that seemed to 
harmonise with the ruins round : the streets were silent as 
the grave ; the night-wind, like a wailing spirit, alone 
wandered through the forsaken shrines, or sighed among 
the cypress and the palm-trees that towered against the 
dark blue sky : but sometimes the howl of the wild dog 
struck upon the ear; and more than once I was startled by 
the voice of a poor Scotch maniac exclaiming in passionate 
accents, " Woe ! woe ! woe to Zion 1" 



At Easter, the pilgrims assemble in thousands to visit 
the Jordan. The Arabs know this season as well as the 
sportsman does the Jst of September, and assemble in 
tribes along the road to Jericho in the hope of booty. The 
Turkish governor always sends a guard with each caravan, 
aware of the importance of pilgrims to Jerusalem, and wil- 
ling to afford facility to this, as to any other enterprise 
conducive to the revenue. 

It is an imposing sight to witness that long array of 
pilgrims winding through the gloomy Passes of the Judean 
hills, with the bright sunshine flashing on the bristling 
spears of the Bedouin, and the gorgeous trappings of the 
Albanian cavalry; the long necks of the camels peering 
high over the mass, and the eager, huddling movement of 
the timorous crowd. Woe to the poor pilgrim who lags 
behind, or is overtaken at nightfall on the outskirt of the 
camp ! They are vigilantly beset by the children of Ish- 
mael, who consider the privilege of robbing as being theirs 
by Divine right. " God," say they, " gave to Isaac the 
land of Canaan, but to Ishmael the Desert, and all that is 
found thereon." 

Arrived at the Jordan, the pilgrims rush into the deep 
and rapid river, with such enthusiasm that they are not 
unfrequently carried away by it, and drowned. The 
Greek and Latin church has each its peculiar spot where 
Christ was baptized, as well as its peculiar Easter; so 
they never interfere with each other here, as in the Holy 
Sepulchre. The leader of the troops only allows a certain 



252 



TIIE VALLEY OF THE JORDAN. 



time for the immersion, and then re-forms his caravan to 
return to Jerusalem. 

In the valley of the Jordan, there is much wood, and 
there were formerly many palms : here each pilgrim cuts 
himself a staff, and is thenceforth a " palmer/' or one 
whose pilgrimage is accomplished.* 

The Turks have a garrison in Jerusalem of about eight 
hundred soldiers. The surrounding country, nominally 
under their authority, is in fact ravaged by the Bedouin 
up to the very walls of Jerusalem, and the different vil- 
lages look only to themselves for protection. Jerusalem 
is ill-adapted at present for a military post; it is com- 
manded by the Mount of Olives, the Hill of Evil Counsel, 
and the Hill of Scopas, within half cannon-shot. Its sup- 
ply of water is very limited, and depends in summer alto- 
gether upon tanks : Kedron has long ceased to flow during 
the warm months, and wells are unknown. The road from 
Jaffa is almost impassable for artillery, and affords un- 
equalled facilities for guerilla troops to fight, and cut off 
supplies. 

Jerusalem is about forty miles from the sea, and twenty- 
four from the Jordan. There is very little wheat grown, 
and very few cattle fed in its neighbourhood. Its present 
population of about 1 2,000t souls, finds a very scanty 
subsistence, and have no commerce whatever to assist 
them. Alms and pilgrims are the principal, if not the 
only sources of wealth. The Jews, Latins, and Greeks, 
are entirely dependent on such resources. 

* "If the Holy Land were in France, for instance, how profaned 
it would be — gay, profligate parties continually forming to see the 
Divine 1 lions' — e. g., e We will go by 'bus to Jerusalem — dine at the 
Hotel of the Ambassadors, where is a capital cuisine — then by steam 
to Bethlehem and the Manger, then to the Opera — and finish by a 
petit soup er at the Holy Sepulchre/ But God hath surrounded the 
pathway to His grave with thorns, and privations, and dangers." — 
Travels of the Abbe Geramb, Monk of La Trappe. This monk, 
while he ridicules unsparingly the miracles of the Greek Church, 
gives the most outrageous anecdotes of the miracles of his own. — 
See p. 79, vol. i., &c. 

+ Viz. 4,000 Moslems, 3,500 Christians, 3,500 Jews, and 800 
Turkish troops in garrison. It is with diffidence I venture to offer 
Eastern statistics; Mr. Wild says there are 35,000 inhabitants in 
Jerusalem ; at least two-thirds more than our consul admits. 



BETHLEHEM. 



253 



CHAPTER XXIV. 
BETHLEHEM, AND THE DEAD SEA. 

Brightest and best of the sons of the morning, 
Dawn on our darkness and lend us thine aid ! 

Star of the East, the horizon adorning 
Guide where our infant Redeemer is laid ! 

Bishop Heber. 

I felt little inclination to linger at Jerusalem after I 
had explored the localities prescribed, and such as I had 
selected for myself. It was now midsummer ; and the 
sun, reflected from the white walls and marble pavement, 
seemed to surround me with a fiery glow. The very 
zephyrs were so languid from the heat, that they refused 
any longer to wander through the streets, narrow as 
these are made, in order to stimulate their energies : the 
scorched leaves had no quiver ; the living city was more 
silent under the noontide sun than at midnight ; and the 
whole world seemed to be gradually growing red-hot. I 
felt escape was absolutely necessary, and prepared to avail 
myself of an invitation from our bishop to Bethlehem, 
where he had been staying for some time. 

The distance is about five miles ; the way lies, for the 
most part, over arid and dreary hills, with here and there 
a scanty crop of wheat in the intervening valleys, and an 
occasional herd of goats browsing invisible herbage, under 
the guardianship of a herdsman shaggy as his flock, and 
as brown and bare as the rocks around him. 

Occasionally we catch glimpses of the wild mountain 
scenery that wraps the Dead Sea in its barren bosom. 
No other landscape in the world is like this — it resembles 
rather some visionary sketch of Martin's, roughly done in 
raw sienna, than anything in nature; distorted piles of 
cinereous hills, with that Dead Sea lying among them like 
melted lead, unlighted even by the sunshiue that is pour- 
ing so vertically down as to cast no shadow. After 
passing the convent of Mar Elyas, on a hill upon the left, 
and the tomb of Kackel, in a valley on the right, the 



254 



THE WOMEN OP BETHLEHEM. 



scenery becomes more attractive ; some olive groves, inter- 
mingled with small vineyards, clothe the hills; rich corn- 
fields are in the valleys : and lo ! — as we round a rugged 
projection in the path — Bethlehem stands before us ! 

This little city, as it is called by courtesy, has an im- 
posing appearance — walled round, and commanding a 
fertile valley from a rugged eminence. I rode through 
steep and rocky streets, that were crowded with veiled 
and turbaned figures in their gala dresses (for it was a 
festival), and was much struck by the apparent clean- 
liness and comfort of this little Christian colony. Ibrahim 
Pasha, hearing complaints of quarrels between its Christian 
and Moslem inhabitants, and finding that the former were 
more numerous, impartially ordered the latter to emi- 
grate; so that Bethlehem is now almost exclusively 
Christian. 

The beauty of the women of Bethlehem has often been 
observed upon, but I confess it did not strike me as 
remarkable; nor did I see a countenance there that be- 
tokened Jewish blood. It is remarkable that the Madonna 
of Raphael (with which, perhaps, all Christendom asso- 
ciates the idea of a portrait,) has nothing of the Jewish 
character; nor does any other master appear to have 
borne in mind the race that she belonged to. Except one 
Madonna of Murillo's, and the celebrated Netrro Virgin, 
all the pictures of value that we possess are exquisitely 
fair; rather abstractions of feminine grace, sweetness, and 
purity, than resemblances of any "daughter of the house 
of David." And here we easily forget that Mary was a 
Nazarene, and eagerly scrutinize each maiden face in 
Bethlehem for a realization of the blessed countenance 
that has so long haunted our imaginations : — in vain ! the 
Virgin remaining — as is meet — a divine abstraction. 

The reader may smile ; but it was with something like 
grave respect I looked upon each carpenter in Bethlehem ; 
the very donkeys assumed an additional interest; and the 
cross with which they are so singularly marked, a mean- 
ing: the camels seemed as if they had just come from the 
East with gifts, and the palm-tree offered its branches to 
strew the holy ground ; every shepherd appeared to have 
a mystic character ; and, when " night came with stars," 



POOLS OP SOLOMON. 



255 



I almost looked for His 3 and tried to trace it over Beth- 
lehem. 

The chapel of the Nativity is a subterranean grotto, 
into which you descend through darkness that gives way 
to the softened light of silver lamps suspended from the 
roof. Notwithstanding the improbability of this being the 
actual place of the Nativity, one cannot with indifference 
behold a spot that, during eighteen hundred years, has led 
so many millions of pilgrims in rags or armour from their 
distant homes. Even supposing the tradition to be true, 
it is impossible to recognise any reality through the mean 
disguise of tawdry ornaments. 

After visiting this chapel and the Church of St. Helena, 
I hastened to pay my respects to our bishop, whom I 
found in the refectory: I shall long remember with grate- 
ful pleasure the evening I passed in that Armenian Con- 
A'ent, where his kindness and piety appeared to have con- 
ciliated towards him the affection and respect of all the 
monks. It was a striking sight that ancient refectory, 
gloomy with carved pannelling and painted glass, occupied 
only by the prelate of a foreign creed, and the fair girl, 
his daughter, who sat beside him. As the dark-robed 
monks passed by the grating that separated the refectory 
from the corridor, each laid his hand upon his heart, and 
made a graceful reverence, with his eyes still fixed upon 
the ground. 

After dinner, as there was still half-an-hour of day- 
light, and a bright moonlight to fall back upon, I mounted 
my horse, and, accompanied only by my dragoman, rode 
forth to the Pools of Solomon, about six miles distant, on 
the road to Hebron. This neighbourhood has a bad 
character, and I was warned more than once of danger 
from the Arabs, but I had so often received similar inti- 
mations that I now heard them as mere common-places. 
In the hurry of departure, my servant had come away 
from the convent unarmed, but he cantered along after me 
as cheerfully as if clad in panoply, and seemed to consider 
a small bottle that peeped suspiciously from his holsters as 
a good substitute for more offensive weapons. 

We pushed forward at a gallop over a wild and rocky 
tract, where the pathway was scarcely visible among the 



256 



BETHLEHEM. 



fragments with which it was thickly strewn : yet this ha? 
been a highway from the days of Abraham, and we read 
of the constant use of chariots along these roads. Now. 
the way lay over a smooth and slippery rocky surface ; 
now, narrowed between blocks of stone, it was covered 
with tangled roots, or seamed by wide fissures. All the 
same to my bold Arab courser seemed smooth turf or 
rugged rock : eagerly she swept along over hill and hol- 
low, as if it were a pastime; bounding from rock to rod 
with the ease of a gazelle and the mettle of a bloodhound 
The evening was sultry warm, but no stain darkened hei 
silken skin, not a pant escaped from her deep chest, not a 
spot of foam flecked the Mameluke bit. 

The sun was just setting in Eastern glory as we readied 
a vast embattled Saracenic castle, on which ruin has made 
but slight impression : beneath it lie the Pools of Solomon, 
from which water was once conveyed to Jerusalem.* 

I returned more slowly and pensively to Bethlehem, by 
the light of as brilliant a moon as ever shone over this 
hallowed land in its proudest hour. On the fields through 
which I was passing, the glory of the Lord once shone 
around; the announcement of " Peace on earth, good will 
toward man," was heard through this calm air from angel- 
voices. In the distance, clear against the starry sky, 
stood " the city of David," from out whose gloomy walls 
arose the Light of the World. 

As I rode thoughtfully along, I did not observe that 
my servant was missing. I had heard a shot, but such 
.sounds are too familiar to excite attention in a country 
where every man goes armed. I rode back to the valley 
where I had seen him last, but there was no sign of him; 
a few minutes afterwards I met a goat-herd with a musket 
slung upon his shoulder, which I seized hold of, as I 
demanded intelligence of the dragoman. The man did 
not appear surprised, said he had heard a shot, and seen a 
man galloping off towards the mountains : at the same 
time he opened the pan of his firelock, to show lie had not 

* These are in good repair, but quite dry, and indeed it would take 
all the water I have yet seen in Judea to fill them. They are three 
in number, at three different levels, and measure respectively about 
000, 500, and 300 feet in length. 



BANDIT VILLAGE. 



fired. I offered liim a piece of gold if ho would accom- 
pany me in my search, but he pointed silently to his 
flock, and moved on. I then rode along each path, and 
ascended every eminence, shouting out Nicola's name, 
which the echoing hills took up, and carried far away. 
There was no sign of him; the rocky pathways afforded 
no trace of his footsteps. I rode back to Bethlehem, and 
the governor not being visible, I enlisted some townspeople 
in my search. I then went to the bishop, to request that 
his mounted servants might assist me. He was in the 
convent chapel ; and here, hurried as I was, I paused for a 
moment to contemplate the scene that revealed itself as I 
drew aside the tapestry that occupied the place of door. 

The altar blazed with gold, and the light of the conse- 
crated lamps showed richly on its embroidered velvet 
drapery: the superior of the convent, with a reverend 
grey beard falling over his dark purple robes, had his 
right hand raised in the attitude of declamation ; while 
the bishop, in his black dress, would have been scarcely 
visible in the gloom, but for the white drapery of the lady, 
his daughter, who leant upon his arm, and followed with 
her eyes the arguments of each speaker. The sudden 
change from excitement and hard riding, and crowded 
streets, and eager voices, to that calm, solemn scene, was 
so imposing, that I almost forgot my haste in its contem- 
plation ; but the clank of sword and spur broke dissonantly 
into the conversation of the churchmen : they turned to 
me with anxious and kind attention, and the bishop im- 
mediately placed his groom and janissary at my disposal. 

I did not wait while the servants were arming them- 
selves and mounting ; but, leaving directions for them fco 
try the Jerusalem road, and directing some armed citizens, 
who pressed eagerly to be employed, to disperse themselves 
over the neighbouring hills, I rode away to the ill- 
favoured village, in the direction of whieh my servant 
had last been seen. This place bore an evil character in 
the country; it sold little but wine and spirits, and bought 
nothing; yet it was wailed round as carefully as if it con- 
tained the most respectable and valuable community. 
Unwearied as in the morning, my gallant mare dashed 
away over the rocky valley, exulting in her strength and 

s 



ADVENTURE. 



speed. She pressed against the powerful Mameluke bit, 
as if its curb were but a challenge, and it was only by 
slackening the rein that she could be induced to pause 
over some precipitous descent, or tangled copse; then, 
tossing her proud head, she would burst away again like a 
greyhound from the leash. Her hoofs soon struck fire out 
of the flinty streets of the unpopular village ; few people 
appeared there, and those few seemed to have just come 
in from the country, for every man carried a musket, and 
wore a knife in his sash ; they answered sulkily to my 
inquiries, and said that no horsemen had entered their 
village for many a day. Seeing now that it was useless to 
seek further until daylight, I pushed on towards a different 
gate from that by which I had entered : a steep street, 
whose only pavement was the living rock, led down to 
this; as I cantered along, I could see a group of dark 
figures standing under the archway, and the two nearest 
of the party had crossed their spears to arrest my passage. 
I could not then have stopped if I would ; neither the 
custom of the country nor the circumstances of the case 
required much ceremony; so, shouting to them to " stand 
clear," I gave spurs to my eager steed, and burst through 
them as if I was "switching a rasper:" the thin spears 
gave way like twigs ; the mob rebounded to the right and 
left, against the wall; they were all armed, and mine was 
not the only steel that gleamed, as a fellow rushed forward 
to seize my bridle. The next moment my mare chested 
him, and sent him spinning and tangled in his long blue 
gown: while I shot forth into the open moonlight, and, 
turning round a pile of ruins, was in a moment hidden 
from their view. 

I now held on my way for Bethlehem, when, at a turn 
of the path, I came suddenly upon an armed party. They 
proved to be only some citizens, however, who had come 
out to inform me that my servant was found : they scarcely 
believed that I had been in and out of that " den of rob- 
bers," as they harshly called the village I had just been 
visiting. A few minutes afterwards I found my unfor- 
tunate dragoman at the convent, pale and trembling, and 
leaning against his foaming horse, with a crowd of men, 
women, and children, listening, with open mouths and 
eyes, to his adventures. 



BETHELHEM. 



259 



He Bad forgotten his rosary at the Pools of Solomon, 
and turned back to look for it ; while slowly descending 
a steep part of the road, an Arab fired at him from behind 
a rock, so close that his jacket was singed, while the 
bullet had torn off part of the embroidery of his collar : 
I believe the poor fellow's skin was slightly scratched 
besides, and he was so terrified that as he galloped off 
he mistook the road, and never drew rein until he 
reached Jerusalem. Here he found the gates closed, and 
the guards refused to admit him : he had been met at last 
by the bishop's servants, making the best of his way back 
to Bethlehem. 

I had rather enjoyed my moonlight gallop, notwith- 
standing my anxiety for the cause of it ; yet I found it a 
most pleasant change to join the quiet tea-party in the 
refectory. It was a rare and real pleasure to enjoy such 
society, under such circumstances ; and the evening flew 
rapidly away until the convent's chimes announced the 
hour for prayer. Then, in the midst of that gloomy con- 
vent, I heard the noble liturgy of our own creed read by 
a father of our own Church, whose voice was echoed by 
the spot from whence that worship sprung. 

And afterwards we walked on the convent's terraced 
roof, and traced by the clear moonlight the various scenes 
of interest that lay beneath us. In yonder valley Ruth 
was found gleaning by her gentle kinsman ; yonder moun- 
tain is Goliah's hill : among those fields on which glory 
seems still to shine, the shepherds received the angel- 
tidings that Christ was come : beneath us was the 
manger wherein He lay ; around us the objects on which 
His infant eyes unclosed ; from beyond those distant, pale, 
blue moontains, came the "kings of Arabia and Saba, 
bringing gifts /' and over the hill-country opposite, in 
after-ages, came other pilgrims, in warrior guise or humble 
weed, ready to lay down their lives, their loves — anything 
but their sins — upon that hallowed spot. 

It was late when we retired for the night ; a lay- 
brother of the convent showed me the way to the cell I 
was to occupy, and, depositing his little cresset upon the 
lioor, left me, with a salutation, to my repose. 

The next morning, after matins, I waited on the sr.po- 

s 2 



ARAB ESCORT. 



rior of the Armenian Convent, to pay my respects and to 
thank him for his hospitality. He was a fine-looking old 
man, with a very gracious, though somewhat patronizing 
air. " We are always most happy," he said, " to receive 
any friend of the Bishop of the English, and in future 
shall be happy to receive you on your own account." I 
offered the lay-brother the gratuity usually expected at a 
convent ; this he courteously declined, even when put in 
the light of a charity for him to distribute among the 
poor. Finally, I took leave of our bishop, with 1 feelings 
of gratitude and respect for him, and an increased interest 
in his mission.* 

Before proceeding to the Dead Sea, I was obliged to 
return to Jerusalem for my baggage-horses and a Bedouin 
escort: I found Abdallah, their Sheikh, waiting for me, 
but he had left his horse and his arms without the walls. 
Issuing by the Zion gate from the city, we rode down into 
the valley of Hinnom, where, under a cave that seemed to 
suit the character of the group, we found six wild-looking 
Bedouin awaiting us with Sheikh Abdallah's horse. Their 
dress consisted of a light turban, a coarse white frock with 
cross-belts of thick cord, and a pair of slippers. The 
Sheikh's was nearly the same; but he had a cloak of 
camel's-hair cloth, striped brown and white : the footmen 
had each a long musket and a knife in his belt. The 
Sheikh carried his musket slung at his back, a long spear 
in his hand, and a scimitar by his side. The Arabs 
assisted their chief to mount with considerable ceremony, 
and then professed themselves, according to Eastern 
custom, my most obedient slaves. 

We mustered ten persons in all, including the seven 
Bedouin, two servants, and myself: I rode forward alone, 

* The Bishop Alexander died in 1846, in the land of his labours, 
and was succeeded in his episcopate by the Rev. Samuel Gobat. The 
King of Prussia having the appointment, selected this eminent person 
in consideration of his fitness and missionary services alone. He is a 
native of Switzerland, and has served the Church Missionary Society 
and its cause in Abyssinia, Egypt, and Lebanon. The Church of 
Jerusalem will, it is hoped, be o^ned and consecrated by Bishop 
Gobat on Wednesday, the 19th >f April next (1848). Gobat's 
Trcrels in Abyssinia (1846) will richly reward any reader who takes 
an interest in the Church, in enterprise, or travel. 



MAR SABA. 



261 



and a lonelier scenft never echoed to a traveller's tread ; 
when a turn in the load hid my own cavalcade from view: 
there was no longer a sign of life in all the dreary valley : 
the path lay through defiles of steep and lofty hills, 
pierced everywhere with caves and fissures that harboured 
only the jackall and the robber. The scenery became 
grander, gloomier, and sterner, as we approached Mar 
Saba ; the dry bed of the brook Keclron ran winding- 
through the most extraordinary fissure, which clove, not 
a rock, but a mountain, some ten or twelve miles in 
length ; its lofty and precipitous sides presented curiously 
contorted strata in their jagged and vertical cliffs ; and 
were pierced with innumerable caverns, wherein the 
Eremites of old lived under Hilarion's rule. The Caris- 
mians slaughtered, it is said, 10,000 of those solitaries, 
whose bones were afterwards piously collected and buried 
beneath the convent church* of Mar Saba. 




MAR SABA. 



At length, after four hours' riding, along dry, brown, 
and barren cliffs, on which no insect moved or herbage 



262 



MAR 6 ABA. 



grew, I came in sight of the magnificent and romantic 
monastery that has stood in these savage solitudes for 
1300 years. It covers the side of an almost precipitous 
ravine, occupying the whole face of the cliff from base to 
summit; battlemented walls enclose it on every side, and 
a deep, dark, narrow glen yawns beneath it. Our sketch, 
which presents a side view of the monastery, with its 
irregular walls and many terraces, will convey a more 
intelligible idea than words can do of the appearance of 
its precipitous and picturesque situation. 

Beneath lies the bed of the brook Kedron, which turns 
away to the left, and runs into the Dead Sea through the 
mountains of Engedi. 

The Bedouin unceremoniously led their horses in through 
a small postern-gate off the road, which ran level with the 
highest part of the monastery, and my servants and I 
descended by a winding path to the chief gate. There 
were several monks scatteied over the cliffs, gazing on 
the setting sun, whose last beams lighted up even those 
fearful chasms with something of a cheerful smile. I was 
admitted, and somewhat coldly received by a venerable- 
looking friar, who told me afterwards he had taken me 
for a Turk. As soon as it transpired that an Englishman 
had arrived, several monks came forward, and escorted me 
with hospitable welcomes through vaulted passages, ter- 
races, aud innumerable steps, to a very pretty little 
garden lying in a nook of rocks. Off this was the 
u strangers' room," a spacious and handsome apartment, 
luxuriously carpetted. and surrounded with a soft divan. 
An Albanian took away my boots, and an Athenian hung 
up my arms : two Ionians approached hastily with trays 
of sweetmeats and cool water; and a fine old Russian 
Padre lighted my pipe, and then offered a powerful cordial 
in a liqueur glass. Nothing could exceed the hospitality 
in which they seemed to vie with one another: as yet, 
they ministered in silence, my languages being unknown 
to them; but, at length, an intelligent monk was produced 
in triumph who could speak Italian. The convent belong- 
ing to the Greek church, the monks understood for the 
most part nothing but Romaic and Russian; an inhabitant 
of Joannina, who had served under Ali Pasha, was the 



MONTE SANTO. 



263 



only man out of forty, with the exception of the Superior 
who could speak any but his native tongue. 

When I was considered sufficiently rested, the Superior 
came to visit me, and, after a long conversation, deputed 
my Epirote friend to show me over the convent, as I pro- 
posed starting before daylight. This was founded by St. 
Sabas in the sixth century, and has maintained its ground, 
they say, ever since. It is true, the monks were occasion- 
ally massacred by the Saracens, Turks, and Carisrnians; 
but their martyrdom only gave fresh interest to the spot 
in the eyes of their successors. The monastery has been 
lately repaired by the Greek convent at Jerusalem, to 
which it is a sort of chapel-of-ease : it contains a beautiful 
church, dimly lighted by two silver lamps, kept ever 
burning before pictures of the Saviour and the Virgin : 
round the head of each figure is a glory-circle of gold and 
precious stones, on which the lamp's light falling produces 
a very peculiar effect. As we left the church, a bright 
moonlight was shining on the cliffs, and long flights of 
steps, and terraces, and gardens, so strangely intermingled 
in this convent; here and there, dark-robed figures were 
gliding silently about, or sitting on the cliffs, enjoying the 
cool night-breeze. 

About nine o'clock, an old monk, with a large bunch of 
keys in his cord girdle, brought in a lamp and some supper, 
consisting of brown bread, eggs fried in oil, boiled rice, 
and very sour wine. My Albanian friend stood near me 
all the time of the repast, and said it was a pleasure to 
have a stranger to speak to. He had come recently from 
Mount Athos, the Monte Santo, as he called it, where be 
had passed twenty years of his life in a Greek convent. 
He said there were not less than 40,000 monks and ere- 
mites on that mountain. After supper, I went out to stroll 
among the cliffs; and the scenery was certainly the wildest 
and strangest I had ever seen. The night was very beau- 
tiful ; and it was past midnight when I flung myself on the 
soft divav.s that so unexpectedly wooed repose in this stern- 
looking convent. 

The next morning I was in the saddle before dawn, and 
wandering among the dreary but picturesque mountains of 
Engedi towards the Dead Sea ; not a living thing met my 



264 



VAL\,E\ OF TBE JORDAN. 



eye for hours, except a few gazelles, and my own parry 
winding slowly along the path, whilst I wandered on 
through many a wild pass and gloomy volcanic gorge; 
wander where I might, however, I was ever kept in sight 
by the watchful Sheikh; his dark figure and thin grey 
horse seemed ever before me — he appeared to stand on 
every hill. In about three hours, we reached the mountain- 
brow looking down upon the Valley of the Jordan; and 
delightfully that beautiful strange scenery burst upon our 
weary and dazzled eyes. Far from looking gloomy or 
curse-stricken, it was the most riante scene I had yet be- 
held in Palestine. The dread Lake itself was as brightly 
blue as those of Italy; the mountains of Moab and Amnion 
lifted their lofty line against the early sun, and wore a 
purple hue over their multiplied cliffs and promontories. 
Here and there, in the valley, were pale strips of desert, 
it is true; but elsewhere the ground was covered with 
verdure or luxuriant shrubs: the winding groves of tama- 
risk and acacia showed where Jordan stole along, occa- 
sionally betra\ ing his presence by a silvery gleam. 

We rode down a steep and rugged path into the plain, 
and continued for some miles through thick jungle, alter- 
nating with deep sand, or luxuriant grass. At length we 
reached the shore of the fatal Sea, and encamped within a 
few yards of the water's edge. The Sheikh made opposi- 
tion to the pitching of the tent, lest it should be seen by 
the hostile tribes; but, finding his objections unavailing, 
he rode restlessly from hill to hill while I remained there. 

The shore was strewn with logs of wood and withered 
branches, that presented something of a petrified appear- 
ance, but lighted into a fire with great facility. There 
was no shell, or fly, or any sign of life along the curving 
strand, which ran steeply to the water's edge, and consisted 
of very small and angular pebbles. It was bordered by a 
line of white, thick, creamy foam, though there was scarcely 
a ripple on the lake; and several streaks of a similar ap- 
pearance lay upon the green and purple waters far away. 
The eastern shore, on the left-hand side, was bold and pre- 
cipitous, and wore a dark blue colour, under the slanting 
rays of the morning sunshine : to the west, the Judean 
hills rose almost equally abruptly from the sea, and ap- 



THE DEAD SEA. 



265 



peared of a brown or purple shade : to the south, the far 
shore was invisible, owing not so much to distance, as to 
an imperceptible mist brooding over the sea. 

The Lake Asphaltites is about fifty miles in length, and 
ten or twelve in breadth : it lies utterly unexplored, in 
the heart of the most interesting scenes in the world; and, 
if nothing but tradition bespoke its origin, every appear- 
ance round would vindicate its truth. It is said that, as 
in Lough Neagh — 

M By this sea's dark shore, as the wanderer strays, 
When the soft, bright eve's declining, 
He sees the round towers of other days 
In the wave beneath him shining 

and, on the only island in this sea, the remains of columns 
and other ruins are said to have been detected by the 
telescope. 

My servant and I endeavoured to swim to this island : 
we found the effort very fatiguing, as the extreme buoy- 
ancy threw the feet into the air at every stroke : the 
temperature was delightful, and floating required no exer- 
tion; we could sit, stand, or even wade, in deep water, 
without trouble. Nevertheless, the water was so acrid, 
that when a drop touched the inside lip, or eye, or nostril, 
it seemed to burn like vitriol. We swam for about half 
a mile ; but a slight breeze coming on, raised rippling waves 
that produced excruciating pain : we struggled on, how- 
ever, for a short time; till the breeze freshening obliged 
us to return to the shore. 

The Arabs now urged a hasty departure, and we had 
not proceeded far when the Sheikh halted, and placed his 
hand so as to shade his eyes; the loitering Bedouin stepped 
forward, and formed in a line before the luggage, keeping 
the step, and holding their muskets crossed upon their 
breasts. I rode up to the Sheikh, and he pointed out to 
me the crimson and yellow kefiehs^ of two Arabs, just 
over a small sand-hill; he then dashed forwards, and in a 
few moments we were by the side of the strangers. They 
proved to belong to a friendly tribe, and were only en- 
gaged in collecting brimstone; alarmed at our appearance, 

* A thick silk handkerchief, tied over the head like a hood, with 
a weft of earners hair, the distinguishing head-dress of the Bedawee. 



z66 



THE JORDAN. 



they were endeavouring to conceal themselves, when de- 
tected by the keen bright eye of our Sheikh. 

Directing our course for the winding line of tamarisk 
and tall jungle, we came at length suddenly upon the 
Jordan, a rapid, muddy, treacherous-looking stream. The 
pilgrims profess here to recognize the spot by which the 
Israelites entered the Land of Promise, and that where 
John baptized ; but I saw no appearance of a ford : it was 
about sixty yards wide, overhung by thick shrubs and 
tangling weeds, and anything but attractive. I sapk up 
to my knees in its tenacious mud, and with great difficulty 
extricated myself, endeavouring vainly to stem the rapid 
torrent by swimming. 

The Sheikh was now urgent to depart; and we rode 
away through a small tract of desert, covered with a salty 
incrustation like hoar-frost, and then entered a wilderness 
of beautiful shrubs in fruit and flower. The tamarisk, 
laurustinus, mimosa, and willow, were the only trees I 
recognized. The underwood was very various, and quite 
unknown to me : one of the shrubs bore a small golden 
fruit about the size of a walnut, that hung temptingly on 
its bending branches; within, it was full of a black dust 
and a substance resembling cobweb. The Arabs called it 
u Bakr Lut limone" — Lotfs sea-orange; but this is not the 
true apple of Sodom, which I have seen elsewhere in the 
desert : that is much larger, very fragile, and is full of 
cindrous-looking grains and a silken fibre. 

In the midst of this beautiful wilderness, flowering 
shrubs in wild luxuriance tangled themselves into a shade 
for the soft green grass, and waved over the bright foun- 
tain of Ain Hajla, which well deserves its name — " The 
Diamond of the Desert." The costliest wine that ever 
sparkled over the thrilled palate of the epicure never gave 
such pleasure as the first draught of that cold, shining 
water to our parched mouths. Even the escort forgot 
their fear of the hostile tribes; and we all — Frank and Arab 
- — flung ourselves down by the brink of the fountain, 
under the shade of the green willows, and drank, and 
bathed our hands and beards, and drank again until the 
Shiekh's entreaties prevailed, and set us once more in 
motion. 



VALE OF JORDAN. 



267 



There is a fine ruin of a Greek convent, named Kusr 
Hajla, about two miles distant from the pathway; I 
cantered over to examine it, and, as I emerged from its 
deserted courts, found the Sheikh, as usual, by my side. 
On asking the occasion of this strict watchfulness, he 
replied that he was responsible for my safety; that the 
old ruin was haunted by banditti, and, what was worse, 
by evil spirits ! 1" 

About an hour afterwards we came in sight of a Sara- 
cenic castle partly in ruins, though a tent upon the roof 
showed it was still inhabited; it was seated on a gentle 
eminence, in a grove of fig-trees and acacias: close by 
was a village of Arab huts — this was Jericho ! 

My tent was pitched on a spot of green turf, close to a 
purling brook that flowed from Elisha's Well. On my 
left was the old castle, called by pilgrims (who love to 
turn everything to good account) the House of Zaccheus; 
to the right, under a thick grove, our horses were 
picketed, and the Bedouin were lying on the ground 
among them. The village of Riha (the name of Jericho 
is here unknown) lay behind — a collection of miserable 
mud-cabins; and one solitary date-tree alone remained to 
vindicate the epithet applied in Scripture to the " City of 
the Palm."* 

The valley I had just traversed from the Jordan was 
the vale of Gilgal; to the southward lay the Dead Sea; 
to the north-east, the Mountain of the Temptation. The 
first is evidently fertile to exuberance: and, in the ab- 
sence of more profitable employment, it gives birth to 
every variety of produce that is contented to grow wild. 
Were this vast valley inhabited by an industrious people, 
and the facilities for irrigation made use of, it might be 
one of the most productive in the world. The Sea of 
Galilee, about thirty miles distant, is elevated consider- 
ably above its level, and yet the vivifying waters of the 
Jordan are at present wasted on the thankless corpse of 
the Dead Sea. 

"This sea has no appearance of volcanic origin. It 

* The Palm formerly abounded in Palestine ; it is now very scarce. 
In Vespasian coins, Judea is beautifully typified by a disconsolate and 
lonely woman seated under a palm. 



268 



DEPTH OF THE DEAD SEA. 



merely occupies part of the great valley, or crevasse, that 
runs from the Lebanon almost to the Gulf of Akabah."* 
This absence of volcanic agency renders still more re- 
markable the appearances of some fierce, fiery ordeal, 
through which it must have passed. 

We picked up several pieces of sulphur on the plain: 
there is a quantity of a dark stone, which, when broken, 
emits a smell of brimstone: the very core of the apples 
of Sodom is of so combustible a quality, that the Arabs 
use it as tinder for their matchlocks; and the Sea itself is 
a vast cauldron, in which the damned Cities of the Plain 
lie ever seething in salt brine, to whose simmering sur- 
face masses of bitumen ever and anon rise bubbling. 

The range of the Hills of Moab, rising up suddenly 
from the eastern edge of the Dead Sea, is about two 
thousand feet in height; that of the Judean side opposite, 
about fifteen hundred. The Sea itself lies five hundred 
feet below the level of the Mediterranean; it has no exit, 
except by means of evaporation, and varies in its level 
some ten or twelve feet, according to the nearness or 
remoteness of the rainy season. 

Messsrs. Moore and Beke, who attempted to explore 
the Dead Sea, in 1837, found no bottom with 300 fathom 
of line, but their investigations were unfortunately soon 
interrupted; and Mr. Costigan, the only other person 
who succeeded in launching a boat upon these waters, has 
left no trace of his discoveries. 

One or two spots on its shore are inhabited, such as 
Ain Jiddy, or Engedi, where fresh water flows from foun- 
tains; but, generally speaking, it is all as lonely as the 
grave. The remains of the town of Zoar are still visible 
on the Eastern hills, amongst which the race of Moab 
sprang from the daughters of Lot. It seems that there 
are whole tracts of hills composed of fossil salt to the 
south-east of this extraordinary lake ; and they say, that 
when the riven soil gaped into fissures with the heat of 
the conflagration, a mass of this salt was revealed to Lot, 
who took it for his missing wife ! 

Towards evening, I strolled into the courtyard of the 
* Von linen's Letter to Dr. Robinson. 



BIVOUAC. 



269 



old castle, where a Turkish garrison is quartered to 
protect the pilgrims, and check the inroads of the Bedouin 
from beyond the Jordan. 

There was a marble fountain and reservoir of water 
here, at which the village girls were filling their jars. 
A range of stables occupied one side of the courtyard, and 
a shade of trellised vines hung over another. Beneath 
this, the Aga was sitting on his carpet with two or three 
of his officers; whilst others moved about in their wild, 
martial garb, with pistol in belt, and sword by side, as if 
momentarily expecting the trumpet's call. Such a scene 
unchanged might that old Crusader-castle have witnessed, 
six hundred years ago, when the Crescent had just dis- 
placed the Cross ; and its fierce soldiery then, as now, 
were lounging about, or burnishing their arms beneath 
the shade of the forbidden vine. 

I did not visit the Aga, being rather tired of governors, 
and pipes, and coffee, and common-places about England 
and fine brandy; I presume he was equally tired of 
Europeans, for he did not invade my solitude, or vouch- 
safe me any notice. 

At night, the aspect of my bivouac was very pictur- 
esque; the watch-fire, blazing among the dark, green 
shrubs, gleamed now upon the water, now upon the gay 
caparisons of the horses that remained standing and 
saddled all night. The Arabs slept round my tent, 
wrapped in their striped bernouses; nightingales were 
thrilling the dark groves with their song; and from the 
top of the tower came sounds of music and laughter, as 
the ladies of the Aga's hareem were enjoying the moon- 
shine and the cool air of night. The Arab ladies of 
Jericho are said to be very fond of strangers' society, but 
St. Senanus might have been contented with the distant 
carriage they assumed in my case. 

About three in the morning, I roused my sleeping 
people, who sprung to their feet with alacrity. In a few 
minutes, a little fire was made with dried leaves and 
twigs, ignited by tinder Mtd a, pistol-flash : then the coffee 
steamed and bubbled; and this, with a roll of bread, con- 
stituted our morning's repast. We seldom tasted any 
other food till sunset ; but a cup of coffee always pre- 



270 



JERICHO* 



sented itself when we halted for half an hour throughout 
the day. 

The good-humoured Bedouin vied with each other in 
loading the horses, and gratefully received a thimbleful 
of coffee as reward. We were in motion while the moon 
still threw our shadows eastward. 

I passed through some glades and groves of great 
beauty on my way to the adjoining mountains, but could 
detect no traces of where Jericho once stood, with her 
temples, palaces, and theatres. A curious mound, and a 
large, tank-like excavation, were the only disturbance of 
Nature's order of things that I observed. 

At the approach of morning, the stir of life that seemed, 
like leaven, to ferment the surface of the world round, was 
very striking; first, the partridge's call joined chorus with 
the nightingale, and soon after their dusky forms were 
seen darting through the bushes, and then bird after bird 
joined the chorus; the lizards began to glance upon the 
rocks, the insects on the ground and in the air; the jerboa* 
peeping from its burrow, fish glancing in the stream, 
hares bounding over the dewy grass, and — as more light 
came — the airy form of the gazelle could be seen on 
almost every neighbouring hill. Then came sunrise, first 
flushing the light clouds above, then flashing over the 
Arabian mountains, and pouring down into the rich valley 
of the Jordan; the Dead Sea itself seemed to come to life 
under that blessed spell, and shone like molten gold among 
its purple hills. 

I lingered long upon that mountain's brow, and thought 
that, so far from deserving all the dismal epithets that 
have been bestowed upon it, T had not seen so cheerful or 
attractive a scene in Palestine. That luxuriaut valley 
was beautiful as one great pleasure-ground — its bosks and 
groves of aromatic shrubs, intermingled with sloping 
glades and verdant valleys : the City of Palms might still 
be hidden under that forest whence the old castle just 
shows its battlements : the plains of Gilgal might still be 
full of prosperous people, with cottages concealed under 
that abundant shade; and the dread sea itself shines and 

* A pretty Mttle animal, something between a rat and a rabbit in 
appearance and habits. 



THE ARAB. 271 

sparkles as if its waters rolled in pure and refreshing 
waves " o'er coral rocks and amber beds" alone. 

The road from hence to Jerusalem is drear and barren, 
and nothing but Bethany occurred to divert my thoughts 
from dwelling on the beautiful 




DEAD SEA. 



CHAPTER XXV. 
THE ARAB. 

And he will be a wild man; his hand shall be against every man, 
and every man's hand against him; and he shall dwell in the presence 
of all his brethren. — Gen. xvi. 12. 

The Arab is the hero of romantic history ; little is 
known of him but by glimpses ; he sets statistics at 
defiance, and the political economist has no share in him ; 



272 



ORIGIN OF THE ARAB. 



for who can tell where the Arab dwelleth, or who has 
marked out the boundaries of his people !* 

Since Abraham drove forth Hagar to the desert, his 
descendants have clung to their barren inheritance with a 
fierce fidelity. While the Israelite has tasted the luxury 
and the bitterness of all nations — triumphing and trampled 
on in turn — the Ishmaelite has gone down to his desert 
grave, generation after generation, unchanging and un- 
subdued. 

The Bedaweet roams as freely over his boundless 
deserts as the winds that sweep them; the only barriers 
he knows are civilization and its settled habitations. 
Tribes sunder and join as pastures become scarce or abun- 
dant : an oasis is to-day peopled with thousands, and 
covered with flocks and herds; to-morrow it is lonely as 
the sea. 

And thus it has been with the Arab for three thousand 
years. 

The Arab is so reverential towards antiquity of descent, 
that he sacrifices his own pride of birth to the abstract 
principle. He admits that he is but a parvenu, as only 
claiming origin from Ishmael, and calls himself " El Arab 
el Mostareba" — the naturalized Arab. The genuine an- 
cient tribes are characterized as " El Arab," par excellence, 
and were denominated Ad, Thamud, Tasm, and Amalek, 
before Abraham was heard of. 

Zarab, the grandson of Ebur, the great -grandson of 
Shem, gave his name to Yemen, over which country he 
was king ; and his posterity contiuued to rule there until 
conquered and expelled by Ishmael. This patriarch mar- 
ried the daughter of Modad, one of the native princes; 
and his son Kedar obtained peaceable possession of the 
throne. After the expulsion of the ancient dynasty, the 
kingly spirit seems gradually to have given way to the 
patriarchal rule which the invaders had introduced; and 
the system of independent tribes soon universally pre- 
vailed. At Mecca, the management of affairs appears to 

* We are told that Arabia is enclosed by the Euphrates, Ormuz, 
and the Persian Gulf ; by Diarbeker, Irak, and Khuzestan ; but this 
scarcely renders its locality less vague. 

f Bedouin is the plural of Bedawee. 



CHARACTER AND MODE OF LIFE. 



273 



ave been vested in an aristocracy of the tribe of Koreish, 
who strengthened their authority by the prestige attendant 
on their being "Guardians of the Caaba."* 

The name of Saracen has been absurdly derived from 
their implacable stepmother Sarah ; and also from the 
great desert, the Sahara; it was, in truth, an epithet of 
one of their most distinguished tribes, and adopted by the 
rest. During the stirring times of the Crusades, this 
name was almost exclusively applied to the Arab; and 
with it are connected some of the brightest associations 
that shine over wars dark annals in the times of chivalry. 

The real Bedawee has little of historical interest; it is 
only when he has gone forth as a conqueror, that his 
annals assume a consistent or interesting form. His 
whole history when at home may be comprised in the 
fact, that he is to-day as he was in the days of Ishmael, 
unconquered and indomitable. Those of his race who 
approach the settled habitations endeavour to preserve as 
much as possible the character of their desert brethren; 
and though search for the means of subsistence may 
compel them occasionally to enter a town, they always do 
so with reluctance, and leave it like men escaping from 
captivity. 

Their reverence for hospitality is one of the wild vir- 
tues that has survived from the days of the patriarchs, 
and is singularly contrasted, yet interwoven with other 
and apparently opposite tendencies. The Arab will rob 
you, if he is able ; he will even murder you, if it suits 
his purpose ; but, once under the shelter of his tribe's 
black tents, or having eaten of his salt by the way side, 
you Lave as much safety in his company as his heart's 
blood can purchase for you. 

The Bedouin are extortionate to strangers, dishonest to 
each other, and reckless of human life. On the other 
hand, they are faithful to their trust, brave after their 
fashion, temperate, and patient of hardship and privation 
beyond belief. Their sense of right and wrong is not 
founded on the Decalogue, as may be well imagined; yet 
from such principles as they profess they rarely swerve. 
Though they will freely risk their lives to steal, they will 
* See note 3, at the end of the volume. 

T 



274 



ENCAMPMENTS. 



never contravene the wild rule of the desert. If a way- 
farer's camel sinks and dies beneath its burden, the owner 
draws a circle round the animal in the sand, and follows 
the caravan. No Arab will presume to touch that lading, 
however tempting. Dr. Robinson mentions that he saw 
a tent hanging from a tree near Mount Sinai, which his 
Arabs said had then been there a twelvemonth, and never 
would be touched until its owner returned in search of it. 

The Bedawee women are under much less restraint than 
the Egyptian, and, like women everywhere else, are far 
more true to trust than to control; they do not cover their 
faces, and are not afraid to receive a stranger with cour- 
tesy and kindness. They live much in the open air, 
manufacturing cloth and camel's hair, milking their flocks, 
attending to the slight agriculture that their mode of life 
requires, and carefully tending their children. Their hus- 
bands seek a livelihood by attending or supplying cara- 
vans with camels, or by other less conventional dealings 
with travellers. 

There is something very romantic in the Arab mode of 
life, which never seems to lose its zest ; their love of the 
desert amounts to a passion, and every one who has 
wandered with these wild sons of freedom where all else 
are slaves, can understand the feeling. It is not to be 
imagined that in this desert there is only barren sand and 
naked rock; far different is the aspect that their pictu- 
resque encampments present. Small flowering shrubs and 
fragrant thickets diversify wide savannahs, on which dry, 
sunburnt grass only serves as shelter for soft and tender 
herbage: there the wild boar and the gazelle abound, and 
the partridge makes merry in his security. Wide tracts 
of desert intervene, it is true, between these isles of 
verdure ; and, when they are to be crossed, preparations 
like those for the sailing of a fleet, are made for these 
"ships of the desert." Fearlessly they steer their way 
over these trackless wilds, by the stars at night and by 
the sun by day: and when they have reached the spot to 
which they have traversed the desert,in the faith, perhaps, 
of some tradition that spoke of verdure there, the Sheikh 
strikes his ostrich-tufted spear in the ground. Down 
kneel the camels ; women, children, and luggage tumble 



THE ARAB HORSE. 



275 



off; soon the tents of the tribe start up in a circle, or in 
the form of a crescent round the Sheikhs; fires are 
lighted, bread is baking, and the Arab is as much at home 
in an hour as if he had been there for a generation. 

For a few days or weeks — it may be even for a season 
— they remain in such encampment, driving their flocks 
each night into the enclosure, and perhaps foraging among 
the neighbouring tribes; sometimes a caravan is to be 
attacked ; and then the men assemble in many thousands. 
When the pasture or the spring is exhausted, or when 
danger threatens, they are in motion at a moment's notice 
from their Sheikh; his spear is the last thing taken from 
the ground ; the horsemen and armed warriors, on dro- 
medaries, march in front ; then come the flocks and 
herds ; the she-camels, carrying the women and children, 
succeed in order, while their young gambol and browse by 
their sides as they proceed: finally, come the strong 
camels, laden with the tents and other baggage of the tribe. 

Notwithstanding their boasted independence, Mehemet 
Ali's vigilant and stern power made itself felt wherever 
his name was known in Syria. Under the contemptible 
government of the Porte, however, the tribes have shaken 
off all the salutary awe which the Pasha had inspired ; 
and, as I learn by a recent letter from Jerusalem, they now 
approach the very walls of the Holy City with impunity. 

Literature they have none, but they nourish their 
romantic imaginations by oral tales, and poems, running 
down from very ancient times. The desert is full of super- 
stitions, many of which are very poetical ; and these help 
to keep alive the Moslem faith wherewith they are inge- 
niously blended. 

At daybreak, the Sheikh shouts the muezzin call to 
prayer from the door of his tent ; and it is a striking and 
solemn sight to witness that devout congregation — every 
man kneeling at the door of his tent, and prostrating him- 
self in the dust with his face towards Mecca. 

The wealth of the Arab consists in flocks and herds ; 
but his pride and power lie in his horse. 

These are noble animals, and are no less remarkable for 
their chivalrous disposition than for their strength and 
endurance : gallant, yet docile ; fiery, yet gentle ; full of 

T 2 



276 



THE ARAB HOUSE. 



mettle, yet patient as a camel : they are very ferocious to 
each other, but suffer little children to pull about and play 
with them. Their beaaty is not remarkable — at least, to 
an English eye. They seldom exceed fourteen and a half, 
or at most fifteen, hands in height ; they have not good 
barrels ; their chest is narrow, the pastern too much bent, 
and their quarters are seldom well turned. I only speak 
of these as defects in what would be considered symmetry 
in Europe ; experience has proved to me that they argue 
no defect in Asia. The head is beautiful : the expansive 
forehead, the brilliant, prominent eye, and the delicately- 
shaped ear, would testify to nobleness in any animal ; the 
high withers, and the shoulder well thrown back ; the fine, 
clean limbs, with their bunches of starting muscle • and 
the silken skin, beneath which all the veins are visible, 
show proofs of blood that never can deceive. . 

The choicest horses come from the remoter parts of the 
desert, and cannot be said to have a price, as nothing but 
the direst necessity will induce their owners to part with 
them. There are three great classes recognised : the 
Kochlani, the Kadischi, and the Atteschi. The first are 
said to derive their blood from Solomon's stables, the 
second are of a mixed race, and the third have no claim to 
gentle breeding. 

The Kochlani are, as may be supposed, extremely scarce, 
but a great deal of their blood is distributed among the 
nameless breeds ; and I never saw an exception to doci- 
lity, high spirit, and endurance even among the hacks of 
Beyrout and Jerusalem. A friend of mine rode his horse 
from Cairo to Suez, eighty-five miles, in twelve hours, 
and, resting for twelve more, returned within the following 
twelve ; during these journeys, the horse had no refresh- 
ment, except a gulp of water once to cool the bit. I have 
been on the same horse for twenty-four hours on one 
occasion, and for upwards of thirty on another, without 
any rest or refreshment, except once, for half an hour, 
when a few handfuls of barley were the only food. In 
both these instances, the horses never tasted water 
throughout their journeys. 

Some of my young naval friends used to ride the same 
horses at a gallop almost the whole distance to Djoun and 



THE JEW. 



277 



back, about sixty miles, over roads that would appear im- 
possible to an English horse to climb. I only mention 
these instances as of daily occurrence. The horse of the 
true Nedjed breed will gallop, they say. one hundred and 
twenty miles without drawing a thick breath. 

Nedjed is a mountainous country in the Hedjaz, not far 
from Mecca, which possesses the horse in the most perfect 
form known. The pedigrees of these animals are some- 
times worn round their necks, but on such I should be 
inclined to look with suspicion ; for in the remote regions 
of the desert, where alone the pure blood is to be found, 
writing is unknown. Oral pedigrees, well borne out by 
the hieroglyphics of noble blood that may be read in the 
outward structure, so eloquent ot the power within — these 
are the pedigrees most to be relied on. The mare is far 
more valued than the horse, as the Bedouin believe tha^> 
the mother gives character to the race, and deduce the 
descent of the horse through the female line. The mare 
is also supposed to be capable of enduring greater fatigue, 
and to require less sustenance. 



CHAPTER XXVL 
THE JEW. 

T'-ie Hebrew nation is one great prophecy. 

St. Augustine. 

But we must wander witheringly 

In other lands to die, 
And where our father's ashes be, 

Our own may never lie : 
Our temple hath not left one stone, 
And mockery sits on Salem's throne. 

Byron. 

Before I take leave of Jerusalem, I must add a few 
words concerning the race that is inhabitant in every 
country of the earth, and yet a stranger in them all. 

" Wherever we have a Jew on the surface of the earth, 
there we have a man whose testimony and whose conduct 
connect the Present with the Beginning of all time."* In 
* Bishop Watson. 



278 



PROPHECY. 



whatever point of view this chosen race is considered, it 
is by far the most remarkable of all those that inhabit 
earth. Their completeness, and wonderfully preserved in- 
dividuality; their unequalled persecutions; their undying 
hope, and their proud confidence that they shall be yet 
a great people — all these are characteristics peculiar to 
themselves. 

They are scattered over every region of earth's wide 
surface; yet not only their physical but their moral traits 
are unchanged from the days in which their nation gathered 
round the temple.^ Living illustrations of prophecy as 
they are, they refuse to believe in those which are fulfilled 
even in themselves, while they cling eagerly to those that 
yet continue in suspense. They have had their temple 
twice, their city six times, destroyed, yet they are as con- 
fident in their restoration as that the morrow's sun will 
rise. Prophecy seems to speak boldly and unambiguously 
upon this theme : " The Lord will yet have mercy upon 
Jacob, aud yet will choose Israel, and set them in their 
own land." In the tenth chapter of Ezekiel, God declares 
plainly that he will take the Ten Tribes, and the Two 
Tribes, and unite them in His hand : that he will gather 
together the children of Israel from among the heathen on 
every side, and bring them into the land, and will make 
them a nation on the mountains of Israel. 

The place where the Ten Tribes have lain concealed for 
2,500 years is still a mere matter of conjecture. Now 
we hear of them along the shores of the Caspian Sea; then 
among: the American Indians; now among the warriors of 
Cochin, \ and the fierce tribes of A Afghanistan. It has 

* " ' I am the Lord — I change not, therefore ye sons of Jacob are 
not consumed/ — Mai. iii. 6. If this was a marvel when Malachi 
prophecied, how mush more is it a wonder now ?" — Alexander. 

+ There are two races of Jews settled along the coast of Malabar : 
the black and the white, as they are called. The former is the oldest, 
and is supposed to have wandered thus far East long before the de- 
struction of Jerusalem : the latter, according to their own tradition, 
settled there soon after that catastrophe, and obtained various 
privileges from the native princes. They never were an independent 
nation : like the Christians of the neighbouring mountains (perhaps 
converts of St. Thomas), they had their own rulers, although they 
were tributary to the protecting states. Benjamin of Tadela speaks 
of a powerful tribe of Jews in the twelfth century, as living in the 
1 Mountains of Lisboa, whence flows the river Gozen. They make 



THE JEW 



279 



been pretended that numbers of these lost tribes appeared 
in Jerusalem in the days of Augustus Caesar, and thus 
incurred the responsibility of hearing the Messiah's voice, 
and of rejecting him as their Saviour and their King.* 

Wherever the lost tribes may dwell, or whenever they 
may return to Jerusalem, they are to be preceded by the 
tribes of Judah.t And surely when their summons is 
heard and answered by this widely scattered people, it 
will resemble that great and varied picture of the resur- 
rection : with turbaned brow and floating robe — with lofty 
cap and Arctic furs — with forehead pale as the Siberian 
snows, or dark as the Egyptian soil from whence they 
come. 

There are perhaps fewer Jews in Palestine than in most 
countries in Europe. There is no rural Hebrew popula- 
tion there, though they have acquired both wealth and 
influence in Acre and Damascus. There are not probably 
in the whole of Syria above 30,000 souls : and they say 
their number on the whole earth is not above 6,000,000. 

They are very zealous students of the Prophecies, and 
ingeniously distribute between Solomon and other heroes 
of their race the promises with regard to Shiloh that are 
absolutely fulfilled . Their hope of the Messiah is as strong 
as ever, and, in their prayers for the day of atonement, 
they have the exclamation, " Woe unto us, for we have 
no mediator !" 

Hamburgh contains so many of this people, that it has 
been called the lesser Jerusalem; but Poland is the country 
wherein they mostly abound. Here they have stately 
synagogues, richly endowed colleges, and courts of judi- 
cature, even for criminal cases. In Hungary, the revenues 
were farmed by them, until Ferdinand the Second pub- 
lished an edict forbidding their employment. In that 
country took place, in the year 1650, a most extraordinary 
assembly, convened to decide whether the Messiah was 
come or not. Three hundred Rabbis and an immense 
multitude of Jews assembled on the Plain of Ageda. 

warre upon the children of Chus, and travell in warfare through the 
desarts. "—Lord Lindsay; Buchanan'' s Christian Researches and Tra- 
vels in Hindostan; Purchases Pilgrims, ii. 2, 145". 

* Jahn. f Zechariah xii. 7. 



250 



THE JEW. 



Some of the Rabbis expressed a wish to hear the Protes- 
tant divines upon the subject, but two Roman Catholic 
priests proposed to preach on their own account. When 
the latter spoke, there arose a stormy cry as of old in Jeru- 
salem, "We will have no Christ! — no man-God ! — no Vir- 
gin;" — and they tore their hair and rent their garments. 
The question being put to the vote, the majority of voices 
declared the Messiah not come. They voted also that his 
advent was only delayed by the sins and impenitence of 
the people. 

Not only in civilized Europe, but even in their own 
Promised Land, the Jews can now find rest. It appears 
strange that not more " of the wandering foot and weary 
breast " seek refuge here, where all seems free to them. 
Once under the protection of an European power, property 
is here secure : and nowhere in the world, perhaps, would 
capital meet with a richer return than in Palestine. But 
all its prospects are agricultural ; and the Jew has so 
long been accustomed to wander among the cities of the 
Gentiles, that he no longer desires "to sit under the shade 
of his own fig-tree, or to eat of his own vine." 

Notwithstanding that the Jew is at once the object 
and the guardian of prophecy ; the recipient, and tbe 
illustration of Scripture's promises and threats; there 
is, perhaps, no religious body that is so little spiritual 
in its worship. Their pride, their trust, their hope, 
linger about the Land of Promise, above which it seldom 
seems to soar; or to rise, even now, beyond the tempo- 
ralities for which they abandoned Him who declared 
that his kingdom was not of this world. It seems ques- 
tionable whether the Israelites in the wilderness held the 
hope of immortality that is now almost disrespectfully 
familiar to our minds : it is true that in Job, the Prophets, 
and the Psalms, we have occasional intimations of such 
a hope, but the emigrants from Egypt had none of these.*- 1 
The joys of Heaven never appear as a Mosaic doctrine, 
or even as a reward for righteousness ; the Pentateuch 
does not refer to it; and it seems improbable that a 
leading article of belief would have been only darkly 

* Unless, indeed, Moses composed the book of Job, as an allegory, 
among the scenes that it describes. 



THE RECHABITES. 



281 



shadowed out in a Scripture intended as a rule of faith. 
Moreover, long afterwards, we find the Sadducees con- 
sidered only as Dissenters, not as unbelievers in the 
Scriptures : when their founder, Zaduch, with his col- 
league, Rythos, introduced a schism among the adherents 
of the Oral law, Maimonides only speaks of them as 
having put a new construction on some of the articles of 
the Hebrew faith. 

The Caraites are said to be a pure remnant of the 
Hebrews, — set apart as an example of what the Israelite 
was, and may become again. They abide scrupulously 
by the written law, rejecting the Talmud and Rabbinical 
explanations. There are many of this sect in Lithuania, 
and Wolff found .5000 of them at Bagdad, who were 
distinguished for veracity, and called " Children of The 
Book:" they are also found in the Crimea, where their 
character stands very high ; they all understand Hebrew, 
and even speak it as a household language. 

In speaking of Abyssinia, I have mentioned that its 
people are very much possessed in favour of the Jews ; 
and, in speaking of the Arabs, I should perhaps have 
mentioned the Rechabites, or Midianites, supposed to be 
descendants of Jethro. This people, if they cannot be 
called Jews themselves, are very zealous for them, and 
profess their faith ; they understand Hebrew, though their 
common language is the same as that of the other Arabs, 
by whom they are surrounded ; they possess the Penta- 
teuch, Isaiah, Kings, Samuel, and the lesser prophets; 
they amount to about 60,000 in number, dwell in tents, 
and " neither sow nor plant vineyards." They inhabit 
the fertile oases, whence they issue forth to levy con- 
tributions on Moslem travellers. Should a caravan ap- 
proach their haunts, a horseman of their tribe suddenly 
presents himself and demands tribute. Whether refused 
or not, he disappears as suddenly as he came ; but in the 
former case, he returns with a storm of cavalry; in the 
latter, with a scribe, who writes a passport, and gives a 
receipt for the tribute-money. Mahomet defeated this 
tribe in several engagements, but made no converts among 
them: one of his female captives was so beautiful that 
she captivated her conqueror, and he proposed to marry 



282 



THE JEW. 



her; bat it is said that — dreading a worse fate, or emu- 
lous of the fame of Jael, who was of this heroic tribe — the 
captive girl poisoned her " inspired" lover. 

" The Jews are spoken of in Revelations* as the 
'Kings of the East:' if, indeed, the Afghans be of the 
Ten Tribes, this title may not be deemed too lofty for a 
nation which has held the thrones of Persia and Hin- 
dostan."f Seldom, however, any well authenticated Jews 
are found in the countries eastward of Palestine, though 
Morison speaks of having found some ancient families of 
them in China. 

Although Jews are continually arriving to lay their 
bones in the ancestral sepulchres, their number is not at 
present on the increase. Riding one day in the neigh- 
bourhood of Jerusalem, the progress of the party was 
arrested by a Jewish caravan, weary, wasted and over- 
powered with fatigue and misery. They had no eyes 
but for the City, whose towers rose before them in the 
distance; while their hearts wandered over it, their feet 
stood still; the fathers held up their little children to gaze 
upon that shrine of Israel's faith, and tears flowed down 
their rugged cheeks and reverend beards. i; Now," ob- 
served Bishop Alexander to me, "had an English traveller 
met this party, he would have taken away with him the 
impression that the gathering together of the Children of 
Israel was already begun; and it was not until I had met 
several such, and made particular inquiries, that I found 
such arrivals only served to replace those gone to rest in 
the Valley of Jehoshaphat." 

It is a curious but well ascertained fact that the Jews 
do not multiply at present in the native city of their 
race; few children attain to puberty, and the mortality 
altogether is so great, that the constant reinforcements 
from Europe scarcely maintain the average population. 
They inhabit a quarter of the city between the Hill of 
Zion and the Temple, now the Mosque of Omar; most of 
their houses are mean in their external appearance, but, 
if I may judge from the only specimen of an interior that 
I saw, this outward show is very deceitful. 

* Chap. xiv. 21. 
f I quote this, but I cannot remember whence I borrowed it 



THE JEW. 



283 



The synagogue is a new building, which Mehemet Ali 
permitted to be erected during his occupation of Jeru- 
salem. It was very plain in its decorations, except an 
altar, ornamented by floral emblems, harps, sackbuts, and 
other ancient devices: a railing on the left marked out 
the place appropriated to females, and a number of old 
men were reading in silence at little tables in the unen- 
closed space, with little square black envelopes fastened 
on their foreheads. These are the frontlets spoken of in 
Scripture, and enjoined to be worn between the eyes. 

I will not dwell longer on this subject: the Jew has no 
relation with either the Crescent or the Cross, and would 
scarcely belong to my subject, but for his antagonism 
towards both. The quarter of the city that his people 
occupies lies between our church on Zion and the Mosque 
of Omar on Mount Moriah, typical of his own position. 
It is somewhat vindicatory of his character that the same 
obstinacy with which he rejected the Cross has ever been 
sternly presented to the Crescent too. 

The Jew should be seen at Jerusalem — still the native 
city of his race. There, if the missionary or the political 
economist can make little of him, he is, nevertheless, a 
striking specimen of man. 

In the dark-robed form that lingers thoughtfully among 
the tombs in the Valley of Jehoshaphat, or bends with 
black turban to the ground at the " Place of Wailing," 
you seem to behold a Destiny incarnate. That fierce, 
dark eye, and noble brow; that medallic profile, that has 
been transmitted unimpaired through a thousand genera- 
tions and a thousand climates ; these are Nature's own 
illustrations, and vindicate old history. 

After Jerusalem, the pilgrimage of the Holy Land has 
lost its zest : I will not ask the reader's patience further 
on this theme, but ask his company once more to the 
Lebanon. 



284 



THE LEBANON. 




HASBEYA — THE PALACE OF EMIR. SADADEEX. 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE LEBANON. 

On to the Mountain ! To the Mountain Druses ! 

R. Browning. 

Beautiful Bejrout ! It is not only now, when seen 
through the Claude Lorraine glass of Memory, that I 
yield to thee the palm over all the cities of the earth. 
Exacting, indeed, must the spirit be that does not rest 
content with thy beauty, even while, lover-like, gazing on 
thee ! 

It is not only the magnificent scenery — the mountain, 
with its glens, like velvet folds, enclosing cascades like 
silver threads— the snowy peaks, the golden shore : nor 
the rich gardens that lie around the towered walls ; the 
airy villages, with their silkworm sheds ; the purple sea, 
and the rose-coloured sky, that invest the old Berytus 
with such a glory. But the kindling associations that 
start up at every view ; the old Phoenician fame j the 



EQUIPMENT FOR THE MOUNTAINS. 



285 



Greek, the Roman, the Christian, the Crusader's memory: 
every wave that foams along the shore once heaved be- 
neath the ancient argosies; every breeze now murmuring 
through the myrtle whispers of banners once spread out 
over conquering armies; rich tresses that it toyed with of 
old in Paphian bowers. 

For Cyprus is almost in sight : yon distant promontory 
shelters Tripoli; those waters have weltered among the 
prostrate towers of Tyre and Sidon. 

You command in an hour every spot within your view. 
You clap your hands, and an eager Arabian champs his 
bit : you loose the rein, and, swift as thought, you are 
careering through the Pine Forest, or scaling the moun- 
tain's side, or traversing the border-land of Palestine : but 
with that we have done for ever — and now we mount for 
Lebanon. Before we revisit Beyrout, we shall have 
bivouacked on the plains of Baalbec, trodden the snows 
of Mount Hermon, quaffed the waters of Abana and Phar- 
phar, and shared the hospitalities of the Princes of the 
Mountain. » 

I was awakened, one morning, by the sounds of sword 
and spur upon my staircase, and two young officers of the 
Vernon burst into my room, equipped for the mountains^ 
and eager for the expedition. 

The bustle of preparation is always an amusing excite- 
ment to witness, but it is more especially so previous to a 
Syrian expedition. A number and variety of necessaries are 
required for the journey : tents, carpets, arms, and cook- 
ing materials lie strewn about beneath the mulberry-trees; 
turban ed and scimitared servants are hunying to and fro, 
pouring forth torrents of imprecations and directions on 
theArab guides and muleteers : the garden is full of horses 
and mules, neighing, snorting, and ringing their bells. 
Here a bottle of brandy is being carefully filled, there 
pistols are being loaded. Now an Arab gallops off on 
some errand to the city, and now a band of men and boys 
endeavour to load a kicking mule, with a chorus of exe- 
crations. 

At length we are all mounted: the mules and guides 
move off, escorted by our three servants ; and we only 
linger to take our " stirrup-cup' of coffee. Now the portly 



286 



DEPARTURE. 



and long-bearded Antonio holds the stirrup, while Yussef 
hangs upon the Mameluke bit that scarcely controuls the 
eager horse, whose expanded nostrils seem to snuff the 
desert air. The beautiful little Salome hovers round the 
impatient brute, with pistols that have just received their 
polish from her delicate fingers. And now we are off I 
Beware, ye grave citizens — ye sedate travellers, of those 
wild sailors — a cloud of sand rises up among the cactus 
that overhang the narrow lane : it runs like the roll of 
musketry along the beach; now it subsides at the city- 
gates, and three young cavaliers emerge from it at a gentler 
pace as their cavalcade is overtaken. 

After passing through the Pine Forest, we turned off to 
the left, and were soon climbing what resembled rather 
the dry bed of a mountain-torrent than the high-road to 
the capital of Syria. As we advanced, the variety and 
extent of the view rapidly increased; each hill that we 
crowned revealed a noble panorama of the tract that lay 
between the mountains and the sea. On we went merrily: 
now among wild groves of myrtle and laurustinus; now 
emerging upon craggy cliffs, or descending into a green 
wilderness. Sometimes a forest of pines lent us a friendly 
shade; sometimes we passed through some flat-roofed vil- 
lage, receiving and returning the salutations of the Druse 
or Maronite maid or matron. The men were all out at 
labour on the mountain's side, which is admirably cul- 
tivated. 

The change from the lowland vassal to the mountain 
freeman is very striking. The fearless look and bold bear- 
ing of the latter, joined to that respectfulness which so 
generally accompanies self-respect, showed in strong con- 
trast to the slave-peasantry of Palestine. There would 
almost seem to be something geographically high in 
courage : the Tyrol, the Alps, and Pyrenees, the Circas- 
sians, the Affgnan, and the Atlas mountains, have in all 
ages produced a hero peasantry ; the low countries of the 
world, with the exception perhaps of Holland and poor 
Poland, have never been similarly endowed. 

We rode, as it seemed, over the roofs of the picturesque 
village of Ananook, renowned for the beauty of its women. 
On the left hand, the cottages stood up against the preci- 



BETEDDEEN. 



287 



pice; on the right, their roofs were level with the path, and 
looked out upon the valley far below. Occasionally, a for- 
tress or a convent crowned a hill, or a hamlet peeped from 
beneath the foliage; but generally the way was wild and 
lonely. As soon as we crowned the summit of the Lebanon, 
the great valley of Coelesyria opened on our view — a mag- 
nificent sweep of wide plains, watered by the Liettani, and 
richly varied by glade and forest, and piled-up cliffs. 
The descent was long and difficult and dangerous; but at 
length we came to the picturesque stream of the Damour, 
and halted at a khan by an old bridge. Here we bathed 
luxuriously in the bright mountain stream; and delightful 
it was to change the hot saddle and the labouring horse 
for that clear, sparkling water, flowing capriciously among 
shadowy rocks and flowering oleanders. 

About sunset we arrived at the antique, crag-perched 
town of Derr el Kamar, and pitched our tent in an open 
space without the walls. The name of this stronghold of 
the Druses implies the " Monastery of the Moon," derived 
from the convent's dedication to the Virgin, who is repre- 
sented as trampling on the Crescent. 

There were 1,200 Turkish troops quartered here, to keep 
the Druses in check; and as we lay upon our carpets, 
looking down upon the glancing lights that vaguely 
sketched out the town at our feet, the wild music of the 
Turkish drum and cymbals came pleasantly to our ears, 
and was re-echoed by the towering cliffs and rocky valleys 
round. A brilliant moon silvered the towers of Beteddeen, 
upon an opposite mountain peak; and the stars seemed re- 
flected by the lights that gleamed confusedly among the 
precipices on which the Druses sought freedom and secu- 
rity, where the eagle and gazelle before had found them. 

When daylight came, the town revealed itself, scattered 
as if it had been dispersed, and was striving to rally round 
the gloomy convent that gave it name. A deep ravine 
separated the rocky summit on which it stands from a 
similar one opposite, upon which stands Beteddeen,* the 
palace of the Emir Bescheer, the Prince of the Moun- 
tains. Both the steep sides of the hills were covered with 

* I know not how this palace has obtained this name in English ; 
in the country it is always called fyteddeen. 



288 



EMIRS PALACE. 



terraces supporting soil, on which a well-earned harvest 
was waving among olive plantations, and watch-towers, 
and wine-presses. A sparkling river ran below, and the 
beautiful palace crowned the view above. Imagine the 
Isola Bella, with all its gardens, terraces, and pavilions, 
upheaved from the Lago Maggiore and placed like a crown 
on a majestic mountain-brow — and you have Beteddeen. 

The path between the palace and the town is so steep 
and rugged that no English horse, with the most cautious 
guidance, could safely travel it in an hour, yet the bold 
cavaliers of the mountain traverse it at speed. 

Industry has here triumphed over apparent impossibi- 
lities : in Palestine, we had jmt left vast tracts of country 
teeming with richness unemployed* and fertility left to 
waste. Here was the mountain's rugged side clothed with 
soil not its own; and, watered by a thousand rills, led cap- 
tive through rocky channels from the cataracts far off: 
every spot on which soil -could rest, or vine could cling, was 
in cultivation. As we rode up to the palace, olive-planta- 
tions and fig-trees gave us shade, lines of corn waved along 
hewn terraces, streams gushed from gardens, and then 
leaped foaming over the rocky road to water others far 
beneath : all spoke of energy, industry, and activity. And 
then the villages we passed through had each of them a 
marble fountain, with its sculptured reservoir, round which 
were grouped the turbaned traveller, with his camels, or his 
gaily-caparisoned mules; girls with their water-jars; old 
gossips with their pipes and their garrulity, and children 
with their laughter and their sports, that are the same all 
the world over. 

After a steep ascent, we passed into the palace between 
Turkish, sentries, and made fast our horses in one of the 
vast, vaulted stables, that formerly held the Emir's stud 
of five hundred horses. These lined one side of a spacious 
court-yard, whose battlemented walls looked out upon 
Derr el Kamar — the richly varied mountain-land below, 
and the sea afar off. Thence we ascended a flight of broad 
marble steps to another court-yard, where big-breeched 
soldier grooms were leading horses to and fro, and a 
parade of Turkish troops was going on. On the left of 
this enclosure was a very picturesque portal of light 



emir's palace. 



289 



Saracenic architecture, leading to the Hall of Audience 
and the private apartments of the Emir. This was finely 
carved, and painted in the Eastern style ; a fantastic- 
looking gilded crown, something between a lantern and a 
diadem, was suspended from the roof. 

The commanding officer was still in bed, and the others, 
whom we met walking about, showed little inclination 
towards civility. Producing the Sultan's firman, I in- 
formed the officer on guard that our business (that of 
amusing ourselves) was urgent, and that we had no time 
to lose. Straightway the commander was roused up, and 
came out, half awake and half dressed, to the cloisters 
where we stood; then, making us some civil speeches, he 
sent a ghastly-looking lieutenant to show us over the 
palace. Although this has been turned into a barrack for 
1000 Turkish troops, who have kept garrison here for two 
years, it is in perfect preservation ; and we could not help 
thinking, as we wandered through marble halls on which 
the shaggy soldiers lay thickly strewn in their capotes, 
what a different appearance it would have presented 
after even a week's occupation by the troops that have 
colonized Algiers. 

There was an extensive labyrinth of halls and cham- 
bers, richly gilded and arabesqued : the floors were for 
the most part paved with mosaic marble, and every apart- 
ment was divided into two platforms of different height: 
the lowest is called the Leevjdn, where the servants stand 
and wait; the upper has a divan, or wide, low, cushioned 
benches, running round the walls : there is no other 
approach to furniture, and in winter, among these snowy 
mountains, all this magnificence must look rather more 
than cool. Some of the marbled apartments led out upon 
pretty gardens, shaded with cypresses, myrtles, and 
lemon-trees : in one stands a handsome but simple monu- 
ment to the banished Emirs wife. She was very fond of 
these gardens ; and while war raged in the valleys round, 
she passed the greater part of her life among the flowers 
that now bloom over her quiet grave. 

Having examined the Palace, we were ready for the 
bath, and found the magnificent suite of rooms appro- 
priated to that purpose ready to receive us. We were 

u 



290 



TURKISH BATH. 



first conducted into a beautiful pavilion of pale-coloured 
marble, in the centre of which crystal streams leaped into 
an alabaster basin from four fountains. Vases of fresh 
flowers were tastefully arranged round the carved edges 
of the basin ; a ceiling of soft green and purple porcelain 
reflected the only light that fell upon this pleasant place. 

A Turkish bath is a very complicated business, but, as 
it is one of the greatest luxuries of the East, and indeed 
almost a necessary of life, it is fit to give some description 
of it : — this will apply equally to all, from Cairo to Con- 
stantinople. As soon as we laid aside our clothes, at- 
tendants brought long napkins, of the softest and whitest 
linen, which were wreathed into turbans and togas round 
us : then, placing our feet in wooden pattens, inlaid with 
mother-of-pearl, we walked on marble floors through 
several chambers and passages of gradually increasing 
heat, until we reached a vaulted apartment, from whose 
marbled sides gushed four fountains of hot water. Here 
cushions were laid for us, and we were served with pipes, 
and nargilehs, and iced sherbets : thence we were con- 
ducted into the innermost and warmest apartment, where 
we sat down on marbled stools, close to fountains of 
almost boiling water. This was poured over us from silver 
cups j we were then covered with a rich foam of scented 
soap, applied with the silken fibres of the palm, then 
bathed again with the warm water and shampooed, in 
which process the whole skin seemed to peel off, and every 
joint was made to crack. Then we were again lathered, 
and again soused, and found our skins as flower-soft as 
that of a little child. We now left the warmest room, 
and were met at the door by slaves, with bundles of ex- 
quisitely soft, warm linen, in which we were again shawled, 
turbaned, and kilted ; and so we passed out into the cool 
fountain chamber, where another change of linen awaited 
us. 

It was a sudden and pleasant alternation, from burning 
suns, and craggy roads, and sweltering horses, to find 
ourselves reclining on silken cushions, in the shaded niche 
of an arched window ; through which cool breezes, filled 
with orange perfumes, breathed gently over us. The 
sensation of repose after a Turkish bath is at all times 



THE LEBANON. 



291 



delicious ; but here it was heightened by every appliance 
that could win the tranced senses to enjoyment, without 
disturbing their repose. The bubbling of fountains, the 
singing of birds, the whispering of trees, were the only 
sounds that reached the ear. The slaves glided about 
silently and somnambulistically, or stood with folded arms 
watching for a sign. If the languid eye was lifted to the 
window, it found a prospect of unequalled splendour over 
the mountains to the sea; and nearer were rich gardens, 
and basins full of gold fishes, swimming about with such 
luxurious motion that it rested the sight to follow them. 
There were amber-mouthed pipes of delicious Latakeea, 
and fragrant coffee, and sherbet cooled in the fountain ; 
and black slaves, with gold-embroidered napkins to wipe 
our hands. 

This was too pleasant to last long; the soft slippers 
gave way to the heavy boot, the light turban of the serai 
to that of the mountain; a shower of rose-water was 
sprinkled over us ; we took a last view of the spacious 
courts, with their long array of cloisters, built lightly and 
gracefully, as if in bowers ; the princely pile of Saracenic 
elegance that surmounted these, and the vaulted stables 
that supported them ; and then we dashed away at a 
gallop, with more of grudge than gratitude towards our 
usurping entertainers. 

The ancient hospitality of Beteddeen was very mag- 
nificent, but the Emir Bescheer, who exercised it, is now a 
prisoner at Constantinople. We hastily visited his two 
smaller palaces in the neighbourhood, with pretty court- 
yards and shadowy arcades, and marble fountains. These 
were intended by the old Emir for his mother and his 
eldest son ; they are now garrisoned with Turkish troops. 

We broke away over the mountains at a gallop where 
it seemed too steep to walk. We had sent on our servants 
early, and soon lost our way; but still we pushed on, 
though it was a wild country to ride a steeple — or rather 
a mosque — chase in. We came at last upon a beautiful 
little village, clinging to the side of a precipice, with cas- 
cades gushing through its streets, and overarching some of 
them. Here we found ourselves in the right way once 
more ; and our way henceforth for some hours lay through 

u 2 



292 



HASBEYA. 



scenery perhaps unparalleled in beauty. All the pic* 
turesque and imposing — all the awful, yet winning effect, 
that hill and vale and water can produce, are here. Torn 
mountains, black precipices, thundering torrents, yawning 
rifts, soft, sunny glades, pale green vineyards, wide- 
spreading forests, flat-roofed cottages, sparkling rills, ter- 
raced cultivation, and a brilliant sky over all — leave 
nothing for the painter's, or even the poet's eye to desire. 

We climbed and scrambled up many a weary mountain 
on which the sun shone fierce and shadowless; and on, 
through many a gloomy gorge and deep valley of richest 
verdure, until sunset found us at the most beautiful spot 
in Syria — the little village of Gezeen. We had long seen 
it nestling in its rich plantations from the mountain-path 
along which we rode, but the descent was so winding and 
precipitous, that it required hours to reach it. 

As we rode through the village of Gezeen, the people 
ran to their doors and the roofs of their houses, and gave 
us kindly salutation. When we passed through, we came 
to a little grassy dell, watered by a sparkling stream that 
flowed beneath the shade of spreading trees. We found 
the tent pitched under a majestic sycamore: no sight 
could be more picturesque or more welcome to weary 
travellers. A blazing fire under a neighbouring cliff shot 
up sparks through the myrtles; and round it sat a number 
of villagers in their vivid and varied attire, contrasted 
with the dark robes of two Maronite priests belonging to 
the adjacent convent. They all rose, as we approached, 
and greeted us with cordiality : as we sat at the door of 
our tent after dinner, they seated themselves round us in a 
ring, asking questions, and listening with avidity to all 
they heard. 

The next morning we were awakened by the pleasant 
tones of the church-bell ringing to matins, and soon after- 
wards the valley was full of men, women, and children, 
passing to prayer. We started soon after sunrise; and, 
after travelling some hours, arrived at the river Liettani, 
winding slowly among green banks sheltered by poplars 
and sycamores in a deep dell, surrounded by steep cliffs 
and towering mountains. Thence emerging over another 
chain of hills, we saw a wide, peaceful-looking valley, 



THE EMIR. 



293 



'through which the young Jordan was flowing hetween 
ranks of poplars. Fording this stream, we ascended by a 
steep and rugged path to the village of Hasbeya, in front 
of whose precipitous site stands the Palace of the Emir 
Sadadeen. The sources of the Jordan are here, and we 
found groups of village girls filling their water-jars at its 
sacred fountain. 

We rode up a flight of stone steps under an archway, 
into a large quadrangular court, with a cistern in the 
midst. On one side was a range of stables, open, as are 
all the stables in this country, to the air; opposite was a 
high wall, loopholed, and looking down into a steep 
valley; within rose an incongruous and picturesque pile 
of halls and towers, almost equalling Kenilworth in 
extent. 

No part of this palace has any pretensions to either 
strength or beauty, and I was not a little disappointed at 
the air of poverty, discomfort, and decay, that pervaded 
this princely residence. On the south side, the village of 
Hasbeya, bosomed in trees, ran down the hill-side to the 
very walls ; on the north, a deep ravine yawned between 
them and the opposing mountain. We were told that the 
Emir was out upon the Hills ; but on stating that we had 
a letter of introduction to him, we were requested to put 
up our horses and make ourselves at home. 

We ascended several flights of stairs, and, passing 
through some dirty, ruinous passages, came to a flat roof, 
over which a mat was suspended, as an awning, upon 
poles. This was the Emir's drawing-room : we sat down 
upon the ground, and were soon engaged in familiar con- 
versation w T ith a merchant from Bagdad and some of the 
village authorities, who were waiting for the prince. 

Refreshments were brought in on a pewter tray, and 
placed upon a little stool ; they consisted of sour milk, 
with celery and cucumbers chopped therein; curds and 
whey, with mint strewn over it ; bread and cheese. 
Hunger made us swallow this uninviting fare with avidity, 
and just then the servant shouted, "Look, look!" and 
pointed to the brow of the opposite hill. There was the 
Emir on horseback, surrounded by a well armed and 



294 



THE BANQUET. 



goodly company of sons and followers, in blue and crimson 
jackets, riding in files along the narrow path. 

Walpole and I now hastened to dress, and were shown 
into a large, gloomy apartment, which we fancied was the 
harness-room, or the servants' hall. Just as we were un- 
dressed, in walked the Emir himself — we were in his hall 
of audience ! He was accompanied by an imposing-looking 
train of village elders, who took their seats according to 
their respective ranks, round the room upon the floor; 
they had all long beards and flowing robes, and formed a 
very reverend-looking senate. Our costume was much 
more adapted for the couch of repose than for a " lit de 
justice;" and the difficulty may be imagined, with which 
we preserved our gravity, on being presented, under such 
circumstances, to the Emir and his court. 

The Emir Sadadeen is a handsome man of about sixty 
years of age ; his countenance showed a want of energy or 
talent, but was gentle, yet commanding-looking. After 
some conversation with us, he proceeded to business, and 
heard and settled disputes until dinner v> as announced: 
then we all rose, and returned to the terraced roof, on 
which we again took our places under the mat canopy. 
A little stool was again placed in our circle, and on it a 
large pewter tray, in the centre of which was an immense 
wooden bowl of rice stewed in grease; round this were 
six or seven little earthenware dishes, containing stewed 
liver, sausages, a sort of rissole wrapped in vine-leaves, 
and some other abominations; we had no plates or knives 
and forks, but each guest was supplied with a large flat 
cake of barley bread and a wooden spoon, 

We took a stroll after dinner to the fountains of the 
Jordan, to see the women drawing water, and were then 
shown to our sleeping-room, the eternal divan. Here my 
servant got us some tea and toast of our own, and we lay 
down upon the marble floor to take such sleep as swarms 
of fleas would permit. 

The next morning, before sunrise, we were told that the 
Emir was coming; so we were obliged to make a hasty 
breakfast and toilet, while he was waiting in the cloister. 
Again he took his seat on the divan. All the village 



RASCHEIA. 



295 



elders were again assembled round him; and, after the 
compliments of the morning, he proceeded to transact 
business. Soon afterwards, we took our leave, and de- 
parted. 

This Emir exercises feudal hospitality after the fashion 
of our olden times, and we probably saw in this comfort- 
less castle scenes similar to what England witnessed five 
hundred years ago. 

We traversed a wide mountain district for some hours; 
and, leaving Mount Hermon on our right, we came to the 
palace of Emir Afendi, in the midst of the precipitous 
village of Rascheia. Several horses were picketed in the 
courtyard below, whence we ascended by about twenty 
steps to another court, which was flagged and shaded by a 
noble sycamore; along the left ran a lofty gallery, open in 
front, in a corner of which sat the venerable Emir, with a 
snow-white beard, and a spotless turban of embroidered 
muslin. On presenting our letters, we were received 
with great civility, and assured that the palace, with all 
that it contained, was at our disposal. This expression of 
politeness was at the same time enhanced and neutralized 
by a constellation of bright eyes, that twinkled from the 
latticed hareem. We were then allowed the privilege of 
of dining by ourselves in a small and dark apartment; but 
the Emir's physician, followed by a crowd of mountain 
warriors and servants, soon invaded our privacy, and 
squatted round us on the dirty floor, eagerly examining 
and asking for everything that we possessed. The physi- 
cian sold us some antique arms, and the Emir himself 
afterwards disposed of some old coins for a " considera- 
tion." One only of the Emir's family was at home, a fat 
jolly-looking young Arab, with a very knowing eye. He 
showed us a couple of fine falcons, but we could not pre- 
vail upon him to take them to the field: he said they 
never hawked until September, in consideration of the 
young partridge and gazelles. Imagine game-laws on 
Mount Hermon ! 

The next morning before daylight, we set off for the 
summit of Djebel Sheikh, the " Chief of the Mountains :" 
this is the highest point of Syria, the last of the Anti- 
Lebanon range, and better known as the ancient Hill of 



296 



MOUNT HERMON. 



Hermon. We rode through some rugged valleys and 
tracts of vineyards, and, leaving our horses at one of the 
sheds in the latter, began the steep and laborious ascent. 
I have ascended most of the usual mountains, but this 
was far the heaviest work of all :* we found, moreover, 
to our great disappointment, that there was not a drop 
of water to be had upon our route. The snow is per- 
petual on the summit of the mountain, but only lies in 
streaks in summer. When we arrived at the first tract, 
it only mocked our thirst, yielding just as much moisture 
as our lips could melt. Our guide broke off large masses, 
and placing them in the sun, a precious little rivulet 
trickled down into our parched mouths. 

After six hours' toilsome journey, we stood upon the 
summit, and perhaps the world does not possess a more 
magnificent view than that which we then beheld. 

We looked down from the Hill of Hermon over the 
Land of Israel. The mountain fell away in many a hill 
and valley to what seemed a perfect plain below. There 
gleamed the bright blue sea of Galilee, and nearer, 
bosomed by the last of the mountain undulations, was 
Lake Hooly, with Bauias, the ancient Dan, upon its 
banks. This vast and varied plain, on which lay mapped 
a thousand places familiar to the memory, was bounded 
on the right by the Mediterranean, whose purpled waters 
whitened round Sidon, Tyre, and the distant Promon- 
torium Album, over which just appeared the summit of 
Mount Carmel : on the left of the plain a range of hills 
divided the Haouran (the country of Bozrah and Djerash) 
from Samaria. Further on, towards the Eastern horizon, 
spread the plain of Damascus, and the desert towards 
Palmyra. 

To the north, the wide and fertile valley of Bekaa lay 
between the two great chains of the Lebanon and Anti 
Lebanon; the latter of whose varied hills and glens, 

* Our guide had been directed by his chief to take us to the top of 
the mountain, and, with a single-minded fidelity, he was determined 
to fulfil his hest. If he thought we lingered or hesitated, he threw 
himself into an attitude that made one great finger-post of him, and 
shouted " Foke ! Foke !"-— {To the top ! to the top !) We often after- 
wards used this as a " cri de guerre." 



THE LEBANON. 



297 



specked with forests and villages, lay beneath my feet. 
Nothing but lakes were wanting to the valleys, nothing 
but heather to the mountains. All was naked on the 
latter, except where the snow mantled upon the heights; 
beneath it there was net even a patch of moss or lichen to 
clothe the rugged rock. 

We caught some goats after a hard chase, and, milking 
them on the snow, drank eagerly from this novel dairy. 
Soon afterwards, we found a little fountain gushing from 
a snowy hill; and only those who have climbed a moun- 
tain 9000 feet high, under a Syrian sun, can appreciate 
the luxury of such a draught as that cool, bubbing rill 
afforded. 

As we descended, the views seemed to multiply, and 
the clearness of the atmosphere enabled us to see as far 
as the diminution of objects would allow. Rascheia lay 
far beneath us, like scattered dominoes, and the cultivated 
valleys looked like strips of the Cameronian plaid. We 
tried, unsuccessfully, to "stalk" some gazelles on our 
way down, and it was late when we reached our quarters. 
Walpole was here advised to leave me, and the Emir 
advised me to wait until the next morning, to pursue my 
journey, as the roads were unsafe. My apprehensions of 
danger, however, whatever they might once have been, 
were by this time considerably blunted; and, as I feared 
the Emir's fleas more than his freebooters, I prepared to 
depart. 

He then offered me an escort, which I also declined, 
and set out aLne on my road to Damascus. The way 
was very solitary, lying for the most part between 
barren mountains, broken by frequent precipices, 
amongst which we soon lost our way. Whilst hesi- 
tating what direction to move in next, the moon 
suddenly disappeared, and it became so dark that we 
were obliged to lie down for the night where we 
were, tying our horses to our feet. The muleteer re- 
moved the bells from their necks, lest their sound 
should attract the robbers of whom we had been 
warned. w ^.eW^^w^ 



298 



DAMASCUS. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 
DAMASCUS. 

From the land where our masters no longer can task us, 
I shall see the rich forest that waves o'er Damascus; 
From the peaks of high Lebanon, sacred and hoary, 
I shall look o'er that country, and think of its glory. 

Sir J. Hanmer. 

Day dawned upon our rocky couch in a couple of hours. 
We had been sleeping under our horses, and they had 
never stirred a limb for fear of hurting us.* The evening 
before, our path had lain among bosomy hills, and quiet- 
looking, drab-coloured valleys. This scenery, if not at- 
tractive, was at least inoffensive; and when daylight 
came, and we found where we had wandered to, the 
change was great indeed. It seemed as if some great 
battle of the elements had taken place during the night; 
the rocks been rent asunder in the straggle, and Nature 
ghastlily wounded in the fray. Wildly distorted as the 
scenery seemed when the sun shone over it, there was a 
fearful silence and want of stir that enhanced its effect. 
Cliffs nodded over us as if they had been awake all night 
and could stand it no longer ; precipices and dark ravines 
yawned beneath us, fixed, as it were, in some spasm of 
the nightmare. Not a living thing was to be seen around, 
no drop of water, no leaf of tree — nothing but a calm, 
terrible sunshine above, and blackened rocks and a burnt 
soil below. 

We emerged from these savage gorges into a wide, 
disheartening plain, bounded by an amphitheatre of dreary 
mountains. Our horses had had no water for twenty-four 
hours, and we no refreshment of any kind for twenty. 
Finding there was still a gallop in my steed's elastic 
limbs, I pushed on for Damascus, leaving my people to 
follow more slowly. After a couple of hours' hard riding, 
I came to another range of mountains, from beyond which 

* The " dew of Hermon" fell so heavily during the night, that it 
ran off our capotes in rivulets, when we shook them. 



DAMASCUS. 



299 



opened the view of Damascus, that the Prophet abstained 
from, as too delightful for this probationary world. 

It is said that after many days of toilsome travel, 
beholding the city thus lying at his feet, he exclaimed, 
"Only one Paradise is allowed to man; I will not take 
mine in this world ;" and so he turned away his horse's 
head from El Sham, and pitched his tent in the Desert. 

I reined up my steed with difficulty on the side of the 
mountain ; he had already, perhaps, heard the murmur of 
the distant waters, or instinct told him that Nature's life- 
streams flowed beneath that bright green foliage. For 
miles around us lay the dead desert, whose sands appeared 
to quiver under the shower of sunbeams : far away to 
the south and east it spread like a boundless ocean : but 
there, beneath our feet, lay such an island of verdure as 
nowhere else perhaps exists. Mass upon mass of dark, 
delicious foliage rolled like waves among garden tracts of 
brilliant emerald green. Here and there, the clustering 
blossoms of the orange or the nectarine lay like foam 
upon that verdant sea. Minarets, white as ivory, shot 
up their fairy towers among the groves, and purple 
mosque-domes, tipped with the golden crescent; these 
gave the only sign that a city lay bowered beneath those 
rich plantations. 

An hour's gallop brought me to the suburban gates of 
Mezze, and thenceforth I rode on through streets, or 
rather lanes, of pleasant shadow. For many an hour we 
had seen no water: now it gushed, and gleamed, and 
sparkled all around us ; from aqueduct above, and rivulet 
below, and marble fountain in the walls — everywhere it 
poured forth its rich abundance ; and my horse and I 
soon quenched our burning thirst in the streams of Abana 
and Pharphar. 

On we went, among gardens, and fountains, and odours, 
and cool shade, absorbed in sensations of delight, like the 
knights of old who had just passed from some ordeal to 
its reward. Fruits of every delicate shape and hue 
bended the boughs hospitably over our heads; flowers 
hung in canopy upon the trees, and lay in variegated 
carpet on the ground ; the lanes through which we went 
were long arcades of arching boughs; the walls were 



300 



DAMASCUS* 



composed of large square blocks of dried mud, which in 
that bright, dazzling light somewhat resembled Cyclopean 
architecture, and gave I know not what of simplicity and 
primitiveness to the scene. At length I entered the city, 
and thenceforth lost the sun while I remained there. 
The luxurious people of Damascus exclude all sunshine 
from their bazaars by awnings of thick mat, wherever 
vine-trellises or vaulted roofs do not render this pre- 
caution un ii ecessary. 

The effect of this pleasant gloom, the cool currents of 
air created by the narrow streets, the vividness of the 
bazaars, the variety and beauty of the Oriental dress, the 
fragrant smell of the spice-shops, the tinkle of the brass 
cups of the seller of sherbets — all this affords a pleasant 
but bewildering change from the silent desert and the 
glare of sunshine. Aud then the glimpses of places 
strange to your eye, yet familiar to your imagination, 
that you catch as you pass along. Here is the portal of 
a large khan, with a fountain and cistern in the midst. 
Camels and bales of merchandize and turbaned negroes 
are scattered over its wide quadrangle, and an arcade of 
shops or offices surrounds it, above and below, like the 
streets of Chester. Another portal opens into a public 
bath, with its fountains, its reservoirs, its gay carpets, 
und its luxurious inmates, clothed in white linen, and 
reclining upon cushions as they smoke their chibouques. 

In the luxury of a Turkish bath I soon forgot the fatigue 
of a thirty hours' journey, and even my horse (he, how- 
ever, had been resting while I was climbing Mount Her- 
mon) soon recovered his spirits and condition. After 
breakfast, the first food or drink I had tasted for twenty- 
four hours, I went to visit Mr. Wood, the British Consul. 
His hospitable house is one of the handsomest in Syria, 
though you enter it from a dull street, through a low and 
unpretending portal. A group of janissaries aud other ser- 
vants were lounging about the small outer court, whence I 
passed into a garden, round three sides of which the apart- 
ments ranged. A little lake of crystal water lay enclosed 
by marble banks; and overshadowed by beautiful weeping 
willows ; little fountains leaped and sparkled in all direc- 
tions, "and shook their loosened silver in the sun." Arcades 



DAMASCUS. 



SOI 



of orange, and lemon, and mimosa-trees afforded a quiver- 
ing shaue to the marble mosaic paths and the parterres of 
flowers. At one end of this court, or garden, was a lofty 
alcove, with a ceiling richly carved in gold and crimson 
fretwork; the walls are ornamented with arabesques, and a 
wire divan runs round the three sides of the apartmenc, 
which opens on the garden and its fountains. Next to this 
alcove is a beautiful drawing-room, with marble floor and 
arabesque roof, and carved niches, and softened light falling 
on dulicately-painted walls ; in the midst is an alabaster 
basin, into which water falls from four fantastic little 
fountains. 

Mr. Wood appears to have extensive influence among 
the Arabs, and much consideration among the Turks. He 
has travelled very widely in the East, and understands its 
various people well. I would gladly enliven these pages 
with some of his most interesting anecdotes and informa- 
tion, but for the character of confidence that every private 
conversation possesses, or should possess. 

After one night's trial of the hotel, the traveller will be 
glad to remove to the Franciscan convent, which, though 
squalid enough, is comparatively free from vermin. Tiie 
terrace, too, upon this convent, commands the best view 
perhaps of the city, and, on a moonlight night, is the most 
pleasant place imaginable to smoke " the pipe of repose." 
The fathers, moreover, are jovial fellows, and possess a 
capital cellar of the "Vino d'oro," for which the Lebanon 
is famous. 

I thought Damascus was a great improvement upon 
Cairo, in every respect. It is much more thoroughly 
Oriental in its appearance, in its mysteries, in the look and 
character of its inhabitants. The spirit of the Arabian 
Nights is still quite alive in these, its native streets ; and 
not only do you hear their fantastic tales repeated to rapt 
audiences in the coffee-houses, but you see them hourly 
exemplified in living scenes. 

Damascus is all of a bubble with nargilehs and fountains; 
Kiir tanner are in every mouth, and the latter gush from 
ev^ry corner of the street. These fountains are in them- 
selves very characteristic, beautifully carved with fanciful 
designs, that seem ever striving to evade the Moslem's law 



302 



DAMASCUS. 



against imitating anything in creation. The heat of the 
climate is turned into a source of pleasure, by the cool 
currents of air that are ingeniously cultivated, and the pro- 
fusion of ices, creams, and juicy fruits that everywhere pre- 
sent themselves. Many of the shopkeepers have large 
feather fans, which are in constant flutter; and even the 
jewellers, as they work in public, turn aside from the little 
crucibles, in which ingots of gold or silver are learning 
ductility and obedience to art, to fan their pallid cheeks 
and agitate their perfumed beards with these wide-spread 
fans.* 

The rides about Damascus are very striking and plea- 
sant. You wander through a labyrinth of sycamore or 
walnut-shaded lanes, with bright Abana and Pharphar 
gleaming through the foliage, or sparkling in stream or 
fountain. Sometimes you find a picturesque mill termi- 
nating the path that has led you wandering, and some- 
times you come upon a group of Syrians smoking indo- 
lently in an arbour, or rushing about like maniacs on 
active horses, that seem to enjoy their wild game of the 
Jereed as much as their riders. There is little to be seen 
in Damascus, except the city's self. No vestige remains 
of the palaces of the Sultans; and, indeed, few of any 
other antiquity, though this is probably the most ancient 
city in the world: Eieazer, the trusty steward of Abra- 
ham, was a citizen of it nearly 4,000 years ago. and the 
Arabs maintain that Adam was created here out of the 
red clay that is now fashioned by the hand of the potter 
into other forms. 

Damascus life begins very early in the morning, and 
the shops are almost all closed by one or two o'clock in 
the afternoon: thenceforth the cafes and the gardens be- 
come rilled, and, after sunset, you seldom meet any one 
in the streets; the few who appear there are obliged to 

* The celebrated sword-blades are no longer manufactured here. 
The trade was transferred to Khorassan by one of the many con- 
querors that have ravaged this fair city. The steel was i{ cut as fine 
as horsehair, and interwoven with gold as finely drawn as woman's 
tresses," then subjected to fire, till each metal became imbued with 
the virtues of the other, and the blade would cut goss-duu? &6 it 
floated in the air. 



DAMASCUS. 



303 



carry lanterns, and the different quarters of the town are 
enclosed by guarded gates. 

The women of Damascus are said to be very handsome, 
and I think deserve this, as well as other less compli- 
mentary reputations. They affect a deep seclusion, like 
the Cairenes, and are more ingenious perhaps in evading 
its restrictions. The Turks here are more fanatical than 
in any part of the East, except Mecca; and it is nearly 
impossible to visit the mosques: the risk incurred in 
doing so is of that unpleasant kind that has nothing 
redeeming or tempting in its exploit. These mosques 
are inhabited by a set of filthy dervishes, who assail a 
Christian with every sort of insult and outrage, even 
if protected by the Sultan's firman and the Pasha's 
officers. 

The Christians, for the most part, belong to the Latin 
Church: there are some Greeks, and a few Armenians; 
they amount in all to about 5,000, out of a population of 
100,000. They are as fanatical and grossly ignorant as 
the Moslems — at least, those few, even of the wealthier 
class, with whom I had an opportunity of conversing. 
The Jews amount to 6 or 7000, and have the reputation 
of great wealth. 

I made the acquaintance of an Arab physician, who 
was possessed of considerable wealth, and was, moreover, 
a person of literary attainments, and apparently free from 
the prejudices, if not from the belief, of the Koran. I 
accepted an invitation to visit him one evening; and, 
after traversing many silent streets, with guarded gates 
at either end, I arrived at one of the low and unpre- 
tending doorways I have mentioned. 

I was admitted by a black slave, and ushered through 
a long dark passage into a courtyard, which presented a 
very striking appearance; in the midst, the usual foun- 
tain leaped and sparkled in the rays that, falling from a 
painted lantern, converted each drop of spray into rubies 
or emeralds. Mimosas, hanging their flowery wreaths, 
and orange-trees bending with their golden fruit, stood 
round, themselves shadowed by some tall luxuriant palms. 
On one side, many lights twinkled in the lattices of the 
hareem; on the other rose a wide alcove, with fretted 



304 



DAMASCUS. 



roof, and a raised marble floor. The Divan was occupied 
by some gorgeously-clad Turks, some merchants, and two 
Armenian priests in violet robes, and high black turbans. 
A large painted lantern threw its coloured light upon this 
picturesque and imposing group. 

The circle, except the priests, rose as I entered, and 
remained standing until I had taken my seat ; then, 
resuming theirs, each laid his haiid upon his heart, and, 
bowing slowly, muttered something about Allah. A 
pipe was then presented, and, according to the pleasant 
Eastern usage, no observation was addressed to me until 
I had time to become familiarized with the appearances 
that surrounded me. 

My host was a noble-looking fellow, with piercing eyes 
and a long black beard; yet his countenance wore an ex- 
pression of mirth and good-humour, that contrasted 
curiously with that reverend beard and lofty look. A 
long robe of dark flame-coloured silk was wrapped round 
his waist by a voluminous shawl, and a white muslin 
turban was folded broadly on his forehead. 

He held a conversation (through an interpreter*) with 
great animation and interest on European topics, inquiring 
about steam, chemistry, aud railways. When I observed 
that almost all our knowledge of chemistry and astronomy 
came originally from his country, he said that the Arab 
science was only like water when it came to us in Fran- 
gistan: "you put fire under it and turn it into steam. 
Ah, yes !" he continued, " you English know all things, 
and can do what you please ; you know more of us than 
we do of ourselves." ^ot JvtvjoU-vwj <m*i^v 

After some conversation on medical subjects, he in- 
quired very eagerly about magnetism, and begged that I 
would show him how it is done. Vainly I disclaimed any 
knowledge of the art: his enthusiasm on the subject was 
not to be evaded, and, at last, I consented to explain the 
simple process. 

* Mr. Paton, an English gentleman, to whom I was indebted for 
this and other facilities, which his perfect knowledge of Arabic, and 
popularity among the Arabs, enabled him kindly to offer to me. He 
has recently published a very valuable little volume, entitled "The 
Modern Syrians." 



DAMASCUS* 



305 



He beckoned to a black slave, who was standing by 
with folded arms, to approach ; and, as the gaunt negro 
knelt before me, the whole circle closed round us, and 
looked on in breathless suspense, while I passed my hands 
slowly over my patient's eyes. Soon and suddenly, to my 
surprise and their astonishment, a shudder passed over the 
gigantic frame, and he sank upon the ground, huddled 
like a black cloak that has fallen from a peg. A low 
exclamation of " Wallah !" escaped from all the by- 
standers, who, one by one, endeavoured to waken him, 
but in vain. At length, they said quietly, " He is dead," 
and resumed their pipes and their pleasant attitudes on 
the divans, as if it was all quite " regular." My host 
was beside himself with astonishment, and overwhelmed 
me with eager questions, to which I only replied with that 
invaluable Burleigh nod that throws all the responsibility 
of perception on tne inquirer, and off of the nodder. The 
physician gazed in silence for some time on the apparently 
breathless black mass of humanity that lay heaped upon 
the floor ; and then, with great diffidence and many apolo- 
gies, requested T would bring him back to life, as he was 
worth nearly a hundred pounds. I was far from certain 
whether, or in what manner, this was to be done, and 
postponed the attempt as long as possible. At length I 
tried, and succeeded with a vengeance ! 

It \<a3 like a thousand wakenings from a thousand 
sleeps — long-suppressed consciousness seemed suddenly to 
flash upon his brain, too powerfully for its patient en- 
durance. With a fearful howl, he started to his feet, flung 
wide his arms, threw back his head, and, while his eyes 
rolled wildly in their sockets, he burst into a terrible 
shrieking sort of laughter. He seized a large vase of 
water, and dashed it into fragments on the marble floor : 
he tore up the divan, and smashed the lantern into a 
thousand bits ; then, with his arms spread wide, he 
rushed about the courtyard, while the terrified Turks hid 
themselves, or fled in every direction. As I watched 
their horror-stricken countenances, hurrying to and fro in 
the various light of the moon and the remaining lantern, 
their long draperies tangling in the plants and pillars, their 
black pursuer stalking along as if engaged in some grim 

x 



306 



DAMASCUS. 



game of "blindman's buff:" together with the ho of the 
maniac ringing far and wide through the silent night, the 
shrieks of the women in the hareem above, the rapid tread 
of the pursued and the tramp of the pursuer among the 
palms and mimosas in the strange-looking courtyard, the 
whole seemed to me like some fearful dream, of which 1 
watched the result in painful and constrained suspense. 

At length, the slave became exhausted by the violence 
of his emotioDS, and flinging himself on the ground, sobbed 
as if his heart would break. Gradually he came to him- 
self, looked puzzledly round on the scene of devastation he 
had wrought, and then quietly resumed his meek attitude, 
and stood with folded arms on his naked chest. 

Peace being restored, the scattered audience emerged 
one by one from their hiding-places, the lantern and fresh 
pipes were lighted, and we all resumed our seats, except 
the Armenian priest, who had disappeared in the confu- 
sion. The negro was then examined, and he described his 
sensations as those ©f exquisite delight ; but he was quite 
unconscious of all that he had done. 

As I had preserved an air of quiet indifference (which I 
was far from feeling) through the transaction, the Orientals 
thought the matter was all quite right, and looked upon 
me with great respect. My host professed himself as 
much obliged as astonished by the performance^ and begged 
of me to return the next evening to repeat the expe- 
riment. " Heaven forbid !" thought I, as I took leave of 
my host, as the following day I did of Damascus.* 

* Should any of my readers happen to visit Damascus, and have 
the good fortune to make Mr. Wood's acquaintance, they will pro- 
bably hear this magnetic story from him, the physician I allude to 
having related to him the whole circumstance the following day. 



CHAPTER XXIX. 



BAALBEC, AND THE CEDARS. 

He saw the Sun go down 

On that great Temple, once his own, 
Whose lofty colums stand sublime, 

Flinging their shadows from on high, 
Like dials which the wizard Time 

Had raised to count his ages by. 

Moore. 

The trees of his forest shall be few, that a child may count them. 

Isaiah x. 19. 

I was obliged to wait at Damascus until the English 
monthly mail arrived ; so I sent my servants forward 
early in the morning to wait for me at Zebdani. About 
three in the afternoon, after a parting cup with the jolly 
friars, and friendly warnings of danger in going alone at 
such an hour, I started. 

I pressed up the steep and burning side of the moun- 
tain, along the edge of an extraordinary ravine, through 
which the Barada, the ancient Pharphar, rushes from the 
highlands to the plains ; thence, across a dreary, blasted- 
looking, mountainous country, in which not a blade of 
grass, of heath, or the vilest weed was to be seen. Naked 
red or grey rocks appeared everywhere, giving back the 
burning rays of the sun with interest, and shining upward 
into the eyes. But, in the narrow glen, through which 
the river flowed, all was beauty, richness, and verdure \ a 
long waving line of poplars marked the course of the 
stream, as far as the eye could reach ; these minaret-like 
trees, and the dome-like masses of the sycamore's heavy 
foliage, relieved against the evening sky, resembled a strip 
of some Oriental city. Beneath ran the bright river in a 
channel of emerald green, with here a foam-flecked mill, 
and there a vine-sheltered khan upon its banks. 

Mills and khans, however, and every other sign of social 
life soon ceased, and I found myself traversing alone a 
wide desolate waste, on which the sun went down in 

x 2 



308 



ZEBDANI. 



purple clouds. Here I lost my way, aud it was long 
before I chanced to learn the right road from a goatherd, 
When I reached the pathway again, the ]a,st light of day 
was vanishing* Everywhere I met groups returning to 
their homes, carrying their harvest home, or driving 
flocks ; then the precipitous path became more difficult, 
the river foamed more wildly, the peasants became fewer, 
and hurried past me without wishing to exchange salu- 
tations with one who was leaving the haunts of men at 
that late hour. 

The few villages that occur in this wild valV^ and 
every trace of cultivation, seemed confined to the river- 
side. I passed some tombs curiously cut in the rock, 
which are said to have been made by the Jews during 
the Roman persecution. Thence, after passing over a 
beautiful bridge, I entered upon the Yale of Baalbec. I 
rode as fast as my wearied horse would travel for some 
hours ; but at last the power of the spur failing, I was fa,in 
to walk. 

A full moon shone upon the wild, wide, lonely scene, 
and made curious illusions with the rocks and bushes by 
the wayside, by which everything imaginable, from 
crouching demon to craw T ling Arab, was represented. 

My maps were with my luggage, and I had only a 
slight sketch from Arrowsmith's very inaccurate map to 
guide me over the waste. In following its guidance, 1 
repeatedly lost my way, until a light on a far mountain- 
side announced a village. Biding up to this, I found most 
of its inhabitants sleeping in the open air outside their 
houses. One of the women waking up, very civilly directed 
me ; and, after another weary hour's ride through fragrant 
lanes of gum-cistus and wild roses, I reached the pretty 
little village of Zebdani. This is consecrated by the plea- 
sant association of being the spot wherein Cain murdered 
Abel, and here I found my tent, in which I was soon 
soundly asleep. 

Zebdani itself is beautifully situated among clustering 
groves and rapid streams ; but, on emerging from its 
friendly shade, I rode through a perfectly bleak and 
barren country, until I came in sight of the huge pile of 
the temple of Baalbec, with six light columns towering 



BAAL3EC. 



300 



over it ; it is situated a little to the right of the centre of 
the Valley of Bekaa. This vale is about twelve miles 
wide, and divides Lebanon from Anti-Lebanon : it is 
extremely rich and naturally fertile, consisting of a thick 
bed of argillaceous clay on a red sandstone. It is very 
partially cultivated, however, under the blighting influence 
of a Turkish government. I counted a herd of one hun- 
dred and thirty camels feeding together on one part of the 
plain ; on others, corn was standing, or being threshed in 
a very primitive manner, by means of small oxen drawing 
a sledge over it, as it lay strewn in circles round a harvest 
heap. A little boy stood upon each ledge, and seemed to 
be practising attitudes as he goaded on his lazy team. I 
passed two or three wide and dry water- courses, with lofty 
cliffs of sandstone, and at length reached the quarries 
whence Baalbec rose. Numbers of stones, hewn, or partly 
so, are lying here still ; one of them measures 68 feet by 
14, and must weigh nearly 100 tons. 

Tradition (and we have no other guide) says that Baal- 
bec was built by Solomon in order to please one of his 
Sidonian wives,* who was a sun-worshipper. In order to 
raise this amazing pile, he pressed into the service num- 
bers of the Genii, male and female, who were under his 
command. The former built the walls, the latter carried 
the stones from this quarry; the vast block I have men- 
tioned was being borne on the shoulder of a female Ginn, 
when she heard that her brother had been crushed by the 
falling-in of part of the temple he was building. She 
fluug down her load, which it is unnecessary to add no 
one has taken up since. 

Baalbec forms literally a vast pile of buildings. Crushed, 
broken, and fragmentary as it is, it lies heaped upon its 
huge platform in magnificent confusion. This platform 
itself seems as enduring as the cliffs of nature that it imi- 
tates : the rocks of which it is composed measured from 
thirty to sixty feet in length. No one knows by whom, 
or by what race of men this base was built, but on it have 
been successively erected the Corinthian temples of the 
Romans, and the light, fantastic architecture of the Sara- 
cens. 

* Gr for Belbeis, Queen of Sheba, or for his Pliaraonic bride. 



310 



BAALBEC BY MOONLIGH1. 



High above this varied mass tower six noble columns, 
upwards of seventy feet, that meet the eye of the farthest 
wanderer on this great plain. I know nothing equal in 
effect to their imposing array. Beneath lie strewn around, 
or ranged along the platform's edge, a vast profusion of 
broken masses of architecture, and some walls with niches 
exquisitely carved. The most striking view perhaps is 
from the south-east, where part of the magnificent portico 
still remains; and an avalanche of splendid ruins seems 
pouring from the old temple on the plain, as if its courts 
overflowed with those colossal columns, chapiters, and 
entablatures. 

Beneath the platform ran two vast vaulted passages; 
and above, as you wander among courts like squares, 
and aisles like streets, it seems rather to be some great 
city, whose ruins you are traversing, than the boundaries 
of a temple. The original foundations seem to have been 
dedicated to the sun under the name of Baal : when the 
Corinthian temples rose, the same dedication still con- 
tinued under the name of Helios. Then came the Sara- 
cens, who preferred the ancient name of Baalbec to that 
of Heliopolis, and the Crescent usurped the place of the 
god of day. Tradition whispers that Baldach, the friend 
of Job, once inhabited the valley. History is silent on 
the subject of its city and its temple, until the biographies 
of Antoninus Pius and Heliogabalus afford notice of its 
existence. 

Baalbec seems to have risen at one time into consider- 
able eminence under the Saracens, and Burckhardt speaks 
of two mosques and a handsome palace as standing here 
even in his time. Now, only a miserable village remains, 
and what is called a palace, belonging to the Emir Hand- 
jiar. He was absent at the period of my visit, enforcing 
the disarming of the Metoualis by order of the Pasha of 
Damascus. 

Baalbec by moonlight is a sight to remember for ever. 
As T sat at the door of my tent, with my Arabs lying 
around me, their horses feeding by the side of each, I 
thought with regret that this was the last evening I should 
ever pass among such scenes. Henceforth my course was 
toward the West. 



EASTERN LIFE. 



311 



I had begun to love the climate, and the solitude, and 
the adventure that I found in the far East — the crowded 
world admits of no real retirement but that which is fenced 
round by deserts, and difficulty, and danger. Now, the 
red Indian does not range more freely in his prairie, than 
does the traveller in the East : no time, circumstance, or 
responsibility fetter his free will and action : he is despotic 
over his attendants, whose wild spirits are as reckless of 
danger and privation as his own. Swiftly and silently he 
traverses strange lands ; little rest is required for his 
desert-born cavalcade; little speech necessary for his few 
wants. He raises his hand, and his canvas home falls 
from the sumpter-horse upon the ground; the fire, the 
spread carpet, the light repast, all follow in their course. 
He waves his hand, they vanish; he points with his fingers 
to some distant hill, or mountain pass, and his people 
require no other direction as to their route : now sweep- 
ing the plains at a gallop; now loitering among the moun- 
tain glades : now bivouacked in a Moslem village, or ming- 
ling unnoticed among the crowds of some city, famous in 
the Arabiau Nights. It is a strangely pleasant life, the 
interest of which grows hourly stronger as it becomes more 
familiar. 

The following picture, which Sir Walter Scott pro- 
nounced to be perfect, is faithful as it is eloquent— 

In the wilds 

Of nery climes he made himself a home, 
And his soul drank their sunbeams. He was girt 
With strange and dusky aspects ; he was not 
Himself like what he had been. * * * 

And at the last he lay 

Reposing from the noontide sultriness, 
Couched amid fallen columns, in the shade 
Of ruined walls that had survived the names 
Of those who reared them ; at his sleeping side 
Stood camels grazing, and some goodly steeds 
Were fastened near a fountain, and a man 
Clad in a flowing garb did watch the while, 
And they were canopied by the blue sky, 
So cloudless, clear, and purely beautiful, 
That God alone was to be seen in heaven.* 

But I cannot hope that the patient reader would 
* From Byron's " Dream." 



312 



DERR EL AKMAR. 



wish to linger longer among such scenes; and I must 
take leave of Baalbee. Now we -have but the Cedars 
to visit ; and then this pilgrimage draws rapidly to a 
close. 

At the rise of sun I started for the Cedars: hitherto 
its shadows had fallen behind me; henceforth I followed 
them. Traversing the wide plain that divides the moun- 
tain ranges of the Lebanon and the Anti-Lebanon, I 
turned aside to visit a tall, isolated column, that seems 
perfectly uncalled-for here, and yields no explanation of 
its present or its past. There is not even a vestige of 
any other ruin near it. At the foot of the mountain, I 
came to a pretty little Maronite village, called Derr el 
Akmar. Thence upward, the pathway, as usual, took 
a mountain-stream for guide, the simple engineering of 
the country taking it for granted that this impetuous 
pioneer would take the shortest course it could find from 
its fountain to the plain. And, in truth, she was a 
pleasant guide to follow, that Undine of the mountains ; 
with her merry voice, and light-hearted friskings, as she 
scattered diamonds from her shining robes upon the 
emerald-green cloak that Nature, like Sir Walter Raleigh, 
had strewn along her path. A rich and varied foliage 
made a grateful shade, and rustled in pleasant harmony 
with the bees that hummed among the wild flowers. 
Then would start up some high, projecting cliff, the 
summit of which, when won, commanded a wide view 
of the beautiful valley. So we went on, ever diving into 
shady valleys, or emerging on some rocky platform where 
the breeze blew free, and the eye could wander far over 
Coelesyria. Gradually the flowering shrubs ceased, the 
forest trees gave way to the pine or the prickly oak, and 
at last we wound along the side of a naked mountain, 
where our horses could scarce find footing. Then again 
descending, w r e came to a ruined village named Ainete, 
the cause of whose desolation we vainly inquired from 
a party of mountaineers, who joined us here. From 
Ainete the path becomes very difficult and dangerous : 
even our horses trod hurriedly and fearfully along a 
path that none but a lizard or a mountaineer would 
have considered safe. Then we passed into a region 



THE CEDARS. 



813 



of snow, and I looked my last upon the valley of 
Baalbec.* 



On the summit of Lebanon might the first of men 
have stood, and taken his last farewell of the Eden that 
still bears the name of his lost inheritance: then, turning- 
eastward, his foreboding eye might widely range over 
the dreary world on which he thenceforth was to wander, 
far from paradise. 

Reversing this order, I took a last, lingering view of 
that great valley, and those Eastern hills, among whose 
gorges lay the path to Persia and the Great Desert : then 
turned towards Eden, and gazed with insatiable eyes upon 
the loveliest yet grandest scene that the world possesses. 

Gorgeous it was, and dream-like : so unreal and un- 
earthly was the beauty of the land, and the glory of the 
sea and sky that lay before me. Eden was there, fulfil- 
ling every requisition of the imagination, as well as of 
tradition : and nothing but an Eve was wanting to com- 
plete the paradise. Owing to the height whence I looked 
down, the sea, one sheet of molten gold, appeared to rise 
half-way up the sky, on which — so glowing w 7 as the whole 
bright West — the horizon was only marked by the sun's 
half-vanished disc, hovering between the sea and sky that 
seemed to have caught fire from his beams. The promon- 
tory of Tripoli, dark with woods, ran out into the bay; 
the shore swept on with many a graceful curve and bold 
promontory, until it faded into distance on the far South. 
Thence, upward, to the base of the mountain on -which I 
stood, succeeded vine-clad hills and verdant valleys and 
rich groves and groups of cottages and black precipices, in 
one richly varied mass : this scene was divided by a deep 
and dark ravine, through which the Sacred River, the 
river Kadisha, rushed and foamed. To the right lay a 
bleak amphitheatre of naked mountains, and in the recess 
that they surrounded stood a grove of dark trees — these 
were the Cedars of Lebanon. 



* As the history and statistics of the Tribes of the Mountain are 
only interesting to the scholar or the traveller, I have transferred such 
particulars as I could gather concerning them to a note at the end of 
the volume. 



314 



THE CEDARS. 



I was at first disappointed in the appearance of these 
forest saints ; I had expected to have seen them scattered 
along the mountain that they consecrated, each standing 
apart like a vegetable cathedral: but here was a snug, 
compact little brotherhood gathered together in the most 
social gronp ; no other tree was visible for many a mile 
round. 

When, however, I reached the forest, after two hours' 
steep and difficult descent, I found my largest expectations 
realized, and confessed that it was the most magnificent 
specimen of forestry I had ever seen. It was delightful to 
pass out of the glowing, fiery sunshine into the cool, 
refreshing gloom of those wide flaky branches — that vast 
cedar shade, whose gnarled old stems stood round like 
massive pillars supporting their ponderous domes of 
foliage. 

One of the greatest charms of this secluded forest must 
have been its deep solitude, but that, alas ! is gone for 
ever : some monks obtained the ground for building, and 
an unsightly chapel was just being raised upon this sacred 
spot. I confess it seemed to me like a desecration ; the 
place already was " holy ground " to all the world, and 
these ignorant monks had come to monopolize and claim 
it for the tawdry and tinselled image which they had just 
"set up." The churls had even pulled down one of the 
oldest trees to light their pipes and boil their rice with ; 
I fear, it was with a very bad grace that I gave a few 
gold pieces to their begging importunities for the erection 
of this sectarian chapel, and it was with a very bad grace 
that they received them. 

There are twelve old trees, or Saints, as they are called, 
being supposed to be coeval with those that furnished 
timber for Solomon's temple — yes, twelve, I will maintain 
it, notwithstanding all the different computations on the 
subject, are there standing now. It is natural that there 
should be a diversity of opinion, perhaps, as the forest 
consists of about one thousand trees, among which there 
is a succession of all ages : nevertheless there is the apos- 
tolic number, first-rate in size and venerable appearance. 
The largest of these is forty-five feet in circumference ; the 
second is forty-four. Many of them are sacrred with travel- 



THE BIVOUAC. 



315 



lers' names, among which are those of Laborde, Irby, Man- 
gles, Lamartine, &c. I should have thought as soon of 
carving my name on the skin of the venerable Sheikh of 
Eden, who soon arrived to pay his respects to the stranger. 

That night's encampment was one to be remembered. 
My tent was pitched on a carpet of soft, green sward, 
under the wide-spread arms of one of the old saints. At 
a little distance, the watch-lire blazed up against a pale, 
grey cliff : its red gleam playing on the branches beneath, 
and the silvery moon shining on them from above, pro- 
duced a beautiful effect, as they trembled in the night- 
breeze, and their dark green leaves seemed shot alternately 
with crimson and with silver; then the grouping of the 
servants, and the mountaineers in their vivid dresses, and 
the sombre priests assembled round the fire, and the horses 
feeding in the background. 

Gradually the chattering ceased; one by one the inhabi- 
tants retired to their distant village; the salaams died 
away; and I was left alone, but for the sleeping servants. 
All was in fine harmony to sight and sound around me; 
all nature seemed in profoundest rest, yet palpitating with 
a quiet pleasure : the stars thrilled with intense lustre in 
the azure sky, the watch-fire now and then gleamed 
through the heavy foliage; its fragrance, for it was of 
cedar-wood, stole gratefully over the tranced senses — 

And not a breath crept through the rosy air, 

And yet the forest leaves seemed stirred with prayer. 

The next morning, before sunrise, I broke up my en- 
campment with regret. These are the most interesting 
trees in the world, except, perhaps, those of Gethseraane; 
they were the favourite metaphor of the " sweet singers of 
Israel, and of the Prophets;" and thus it comes that these 
few trees, standing on this lonely and distant mountain, 
are known over the wide earth. 

Descending from the platform among the mountains 
where the cedars stand, we pass for some distance through 
a wild and uninhabited country; then suddenly come upon 
the beautiful village of Bshirrai, seated on a steep acclivity 
where mingled lawn, and vineyard, and cliff diversify tho 
view, and separate the cottages. 



310 



BSHIRRAI. 



These last are built open towards the front, which is 
supported by wooden pillars that give the edifice a temple- 
like appearance : and never did fane rise in a lovelier spot; 
with its terraced gardens, and cascades gushing through 
thick tangles of the clematis, honeysuckle, and wild rose. 
The fig-tree and the sycamore shade the steep pathways, 
and by the side of these comely women are at work in 
their open houses; some are making baskets of earth and 
straw for their silk- worms, and drying them in the sun^ 
some are embroidering, or making gay little garments for 
the laughing children that fearlessly approach, and allow 
you to lift them on your saddle, and play with their long, 
wavy curls. Round you rise rocks and precipices of fan- 
tastic form and various colouring; and beneath, through a 
dark and grand ravine, foams and thunders the Kadisha. 
Little paddocks, with real grass (a rare production in these 
parts), and white cattle grazing thereon, repose in the 
hollow of the vale; and all around the eye wanders in 
pleased puzzlement through the intricate beauties of as fair 
a scene, from snowy mountain above to deep blue sea 
below, as ever mortal gazed on. 

I passed the convent of Canobin; some lime-stone hills, 
extremely rich in fossils; a grand old castle in a picturesque 
valley; and then emerged upon the shore, 

About sunset we reached the river Adonis, on whose 
banks some merchants had already encamped, and here 
my muleteer halted, and declared he would proceed no 
farther that night. The steamer was to sail for Constan- 
tinople on the following day, and, as I had some business 
to transact at Beyrout, I was obliged to push on, leaving 
my servant to bring on the baggage-horses and the mule- 
teers as soon as it was daylight. The muleteer, seeing 
me preparing to depart, conjured me to remain, if not for 
my sake, for his, as he should never see me again, or get 
paid. He said that the roads were at all times infested 
by banditti, but at night that the " bad people'' came 
down from the mountains to meet the French and Italian 
smugglers from the sea, and that few had ever been 
allowed to pass their haunts alive : I attributed all this to 
Oriental exaggeration, and rode away. I soon discovered 
that my guide had spoken faithfully for once. 



ENCAMPMENT. 



317 



About ten o'clock I halted for the first time since sunrise, 
at a small khan, to give my horse a handful of barley, and 
to sup upon some cucumbers and sour milk, the only re- 
freshment the place afforded : then, resuming my way, 1 
rode along a very wild and lonely shore, by the light of a 
brilliant moon. The way soon ascended along the brow 
of a dark and menacing cliff, which impended over the 
path so as to render it quite dark. The sea roared hun- 
grily many hundred yards below, the path was rugged 
and slippery, and it was with difficulty my horse could 
keep his feet. On descending from these heights, I found 
myself in a cemetery, whose sculptured turbans showed 
that the neighbouring village was Moslem. Soon after- 
wards a widely curved bay spread out before me, and, at 
its farther extremity, I could see several low, dark craft 
moored close in shore ; while lights, that seemed intended 
for signals, gleamed at intervals all along the hills. These 
were extinguished as I approached each, but quickly 
relighted when I passed. I had wrapped my turban 
round my neck and waist to protect myself from the cold 
night; but I now rewound it on my head, as the red tar- 
boosh is the sure sign of a Turkish trooper, and could 
scarcely escape a rifle bullet in the scenes I was about to 
enter upon. As I approached a pass in the rocks, four 
mounted men, videttes I suppose, suddenly dashed out 
from their concealment, and reined up their horses when 
close to mine. "Who are you? whither going?" was 
quickly asked. "An Englishman travelling to Beyrout," 
was the reply. They held a moment's counsel, and then 
suffered me to pass, I know not why. 

I rode on uninterruptedly for about a mile, when I came 
to some tents : camels were lying about, and bales of silk 
and other merchandize : a few men in Syrian, and also in 
Frank dresses were passing to and from the boats to the 
tents. It was about one o'clock, the very noon of night; 
yet this was their hour of most active business. They 
had evidently been apprised that a stranger was approach- 
ing, and now moved stealthily about among the sleeping 
camels, and the I ales that lay strewn around. There 
seemed to be some safety in a multitude ; retreat was im- 
possible, and I rode straight up to the largest tent. Dis- 



318 



PIRATES. 



mounting, I desired one of the Arabs to lead about my 
horse to cool, and then asked for a light for my pipe, and 
lay down upon the tent-carpet. 

The scene was a very picturesque one ; high mountains 
frowned over the silvery sands ; the smugglers gathered 
round the door of the tent, their shawl girdles stuck full 
of pistols and yataghans, and the dew standing on their 
shaggy brows and moustaches ; the tents, the boats, the 
bright blue sea, and a glorious moon shining over all, 
formed a picture on which I gazed earnestly as it might 
be for the last time. I knew if they robbed, they would 
also murder me, as the silence of those " who tell no tales" 
was important to them ; and yet I lay smoking my pipe 
with as much calmness, if not indifference, as ever I did 
under the shelter of the English flag. Three most sinis- 
ter-looking ruffians approached me, after a long consulta- 
tion : they all squinted violently, so that they might have 
seemed to have but three eyes among them, only, that 
each time I looked, I saw the eye in a different ball. 
These were now all glowering in six different ways on the 
gold tassel of my sword-knot : at length one of them 
asked me, " what brought me there at that hour of the 
night 1" I said I was an English traveller, and that my 
servants were following me. The Arab shook his head ; 
but, at that moment, a young Syrian entered the tent, 
and, to my agreeable surprise, accosted me in French. 
He said very courteously that I was not aware of the 
danger I was in, and he would advise me to remain there 
until morning. 1 expressed myself obliged for his friendly 
caution, but persisted in departing, and mounted my horse 
deliberately; as I gathered up my reins, the three Arabs 
placed themselves in my way, and one attempted to catch 
my bridle : I well knew then that my only chance of 
escape lay in resolution : so, saying to my assailant, " if 
you move, you die !" the moonlight glimmered on the 
barrel of the pistol; the Syrian spoke a few hurried 
words, whose meaning I could not catch; and the next 
moment I was past the smugglers, and out of their sight 
round a projecting rock. 

I had still a weary distance to travel; and the broad 
stream of the Nahr el Kelb to ford or swim, as my jaded 



CONSTANTINOPLE. 



319 



horse happened to choose the way, of which I was pro- 
foundly ignorant. The sun rose as I entered Beyrout 
and dismounted from my horse, just twenty-five hours 
after I had mounted him the preceding day. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

CONSTANTINOPLE. 

Is this the sovereign seat of Constantine ? 

Is that indeed Sophia's far-famed dome, 

Where first the Faith was led in triumph home 

Like some high bride, with banner and bright sign, 

And melody and flowers ? Round yonder shrine 

The sons, the rivals, yea, the lords of Rome, 

Bowed they in reverence, awed by truth divine 

Breathed through the golden lips of Chrysostom ! 

But where that conquering Cross, which, high in heaven, 

That dome of old surmounted ? angels sweeping 

The aerial coasts now hang no more suspended — 

With the wild sea-dirge their chants no more are blended— 

Onward they speed, by their own sorrows driven ; 

And the winds waft alone their heavenly weeping. 

Aubrey de Verb. 

The next day (July 13th) I found myself on board a 
Turkish steamer, with 850 troops strewed along the deck 
so thickly that they could scarcely turn. The fore-cabin 
was allotted to the hareems of the officers; the ladies' 
cabin was occupied by a Persian Princess : and two 
Persian Princes and I had the saloon to ourselves. They 
were very agreeable, courteous persons, and spoke with 
delight of their visit to England some years ago. The 
Opera and the " fire-carriages " were subjects on which 
they particularly loved to dwell, but the women of 
England were the supreme subjects of their admiration. 
" Persian ladees," said Prince Reza Oglu, " very beauti- 
fool; Constantininopoli ladees very beautifool; Engleesh 
ladees much very better." 

We passed Cyprus the second day — a mountainous 
island of great capabilities, but withering under Turkish 



320 



RHODES. 



oppression. Paphos, or Baffa, as it is now called^ con- 
tains only the fragments of one or two broken columns 
standing upon a promontory, bare, and unmystified by 
the gloom of surrounding groves. Being in quarantine^ 
we were, fortunately perhaps, not permitted to land in 
this island — still, it is said, so dangerous to susceptible 
travellers. 

On the third day we made the coast of Caramania ; on 
the fifth we cast anchor in the harbour of the Isle of 
Rhodes. The 




CITY OF RHODES 



presents very much the appearance one would be led to 
expect from its situation and its history : a mingling of 
European with Asiatic dwellings : churches and mosques, 
spires and minarets, intermingled with cypress and syca- 
more : without the town, a pleasant boulevard affords 
shade for the varied population to saunter under, a la 
Parisienne; or to sit and smoke under, a la Turque. 
Here, also, we were prevented from landing, on account 
of quarantine ; but I pulled about the ofling in one of 
the ship's boats, and surveyed the inner harbour, across 
whose narrow entrance the Colossus strode. It was only 



princes' island. 



321 



twenty-four feet in breadth, so that it requires no great 
stretch of the imagination to equal that of the image. 

This island well deserves a visit, and has been hitherto 
very imperfectly explored: the interior is said to be very 
beautiful, and many remains of antiquity lie strewn about 
there unexamined. 

In the evening we weighed anchor, and passed along 
a fine mountainous coast (Asia Minor) on our right. 
Patmos, on the left, with many an island of mythologic 
fame, keeps alive the attention that has henceforth no 
time to sleep; for every wave of this historic sea is full 
of memories. Scio and Mitylene now arise; the Gulf 
of Smyrna opening within this last; and morning's ear- 
liest light shows us Ida's mountain over the level plain 
of Troy, with the tombs of Hector and Achilles appearing 
like Irish raths. 

Soon afterwards we entered the Dardanelles, against a 
current that continually runs to the southward at the rate 
of three or four miles an hour. There is little that is 
picturesque in these celebrated Straits, which vary from 
one to three miles in width: the shores consist of steep 
and barren hills, with but few trees scattered along their 
sides. The same evening we entered the little Sea of 
Marmora, which was throwing up as heavy a swell as if 
it was an ocean. 

The next morning — the seventh after our departure 
from Beyrout — revealed to us a distant view of magni- 
ficent Stamboul: we were obliged to bear away to the 
eastward, however, to disembark our troops on the 
" Princes' Islands/' where they were to perform quaran- 
tine. Their sufferings during the voyage must have been 
extreme, exposed during the daytime to a burning sun, 
and at night to the spray that constantly broke over the 
ship; yet they showed the same profound apathy in re- 
covering their freedom as they had done during their 
painful voyage. I never heard a murmur escape from 
one of them, though some of their officers remonstrated 
once or twice with ihe captain about their unavoidable 
miseries. These officers were, without exception, coarse, 
mean, dirty, and unsoklierlike: they seemed to belong to 
luc very lowest class of the population. 

Y 



322 



SEA OF MARMORA. 



After a long delay, while the arrival of the Princes was 
being announced at Constantinople, we were ordered to 
land at Kartal, a quarantine station on the Asiatic shore. 
I steered the captain's gig with the royal party in it ; 
while a larger boat took t'heir suite, with a beautiful mare 
that they had brought from the banks of the Euphrates. 

And now I found myself floating on the moonlit sea of 
Marmora, in the shadows of the minaretted Asiatic shore, 
with a fair Persian princess in my charge : I could not see 
her face; but her voice was soft and gentle as the breeze 
that breathed through the folds of her long white veil. The 
princes sate one on each side of me, in high conical caps of 
black Astrakan fur; and a female slave, enveloped in 
black drapery, sate opposite her young mistress. We 
pulled for many a mile along that placid sea, laughing and 
talking merrily. Prince Timour several times endeavoured 
to remove his sister's veil, and appealed to me as to whether 
the most beautiful women in England had any objection to 
being seen. The khanum/* however, resisted the unveil- 
ing, good-humouredly but firmly. 

The moon was shining brightly over the Princes' Islands; 
mingling her pale beams with the golden haze that still 
lingered where the sun had sunk behind the European hills. 
We floated tranquilly along under the shadows of the 
Asian shore, till silence gradually stole upon the sense, or 
was scarcely broken by the measured stroke of the sailor's 
oar, and the low, monotonous chant of their JEge&n song. 
The high black caps of the Persians began to glisten with 
the dew, the veiled figures of the princess and her slave 
drooped gradually from their unusual attitude, the dolphins 
played about our prow, and phosphorescent light flashed 
along the crest of every little wave; the mysterious look- 
ing group and every thing around were in harmony with 
the romantic scene and hour. 

At length w r e landed on a tongue of land under a 
deserted palace, and spread a carpet for the Khanum at the 
foot of a sycamore. I lighted a fire of dried leaves and 
twigs at which Prince Timour blew until his bearded cheeks 
seemed about to burst, and the female slave drew forth 
from some part of her voluminous dress a little silver sauce- 
** KiiaMf prince; khanum, princess, in Persian. 



CONSTANTINOPLE. 



323 



pan, in which we boiled some tea. This was handed in a 
tiny porcelain cup to the Khanum, and the princes and I 
made merry over the fire with the rest. 

At length the luggage arrived, and we were admitted into 
the ruined palace which was to be our quarantine prison, 
with as many precautions as if we had come to storm it. 

Travellers ! avoid Kartal as you would the plague that 
it professes to be a guard against. I was shown into a 
large empty room, with discoloured walls, and a floor thickly 
covered with dirt and gravel, among which ants and fleas 
were swarming. The " royal family " had similar accom- 
modations; and we had a narrow courtyard, with high 
brick walls, in common. We could hear the trees rustle in 
the gardens outside, but never were allowed to feel their 
shade; and we could hear the waves laughing along the 
shore, but never were allowed the luxury of bathing. Here 
we were detained for a dismal fortnight, half starved and 
half scorched ; without any resource but our pipes and 
resignation, both of which my companions possessed in a 
much greater degree of perfection than I did. 

I do not believe that twelve months of captivity could 
have made freedom more delightful than did the twelve 
dreary days I had passed in that loathsome prison. 

After some hoars' sailing, I came in sight of the Euro- 
pean shore, and gazed eagerly for some object that might 
assure me of its identity : when, lo ! slowly emerging 
from the bright horizon, minaret after minaret starts into 
view; mosque domes and masses of dark foliage follow: 
with every wave we bound over, some new feature is 
developed, and at length Constantinople stands revealed 
in all its unrivalled magnificence and beauty. The Bos- 
phorus shines befores us like a lake : its purple waves 
dance into the sunlight that turns their crests to gold, and 
reflect along their margin the mingled foliage and for- 
tresses that shadow their deep waters. Over these rises a 
richly mingled mass of palaces, and gardens, and stately 
towers ; and dark groves, with many minarets, and 
cypress trees, and purple domes, and gleaming crescents. 
Beyond that gorgeously-crowded hill the peninsula is 
girded round with the majestic walls and towers that so 
long defied the Moslem invaders. 

Y 2 



324 



PERA. 



The triangular peninsula which Constantinople occupies 
is bounded on the south by the Sea of Marmora, on the 
east by the Thracian Bosphorus, and on the north by the 
Golden Horn, which separates it from Pera. This unique 
water is only a quarter of a mile wide, and runs, bordered 
by arsenals, palaces, and storehouses, for seven miles into 
Roumelia. All the fleets of Europe might here lie at 
anchor among the very streets, like the gondolas at 
Venice. The town of Pera occupies the whole face of the 
northern shore, looking down upon the Golden Horn, and 
out upon the Bosphorus : Tophana and Galata are in- 
volved in its general name. Here all the Europeans, with 
their respective embassies and consulates, have their 
residence. 

I coasted along the Asiatic shore, until I passed the 
Hill of Scutari, covered with a forest of cypresses that 
conceal the cemeteiy of the city, and then steered across, 
under Leander's Tower, for Pera. This fortress is built 
upon a rock, in the midst of the Bosphorus, whereon used 
to rest the central links of a chain wherewith the simple 
people of early times could check the course of ancient 
navies. 

So much has been said and written of Constantinople, I 
shall only add that it seems to me impossible to exagge- 
rate its beauty and commanding appearance. There is 
something so strange in those fairy-like towers and 
minarets among their rich groves and gardens, contrasted 
with the imposing situation of the city, and the proud 
array of castles and fortresses that line the shore ; added 
to the beauty of the bright blue sea in which the city 
stands reflected, and the clear atmosphere that gives 
brilliance to the whole; it is impossible to describe the 
effect produced by such varied and yet harmonious 
features. 

Landed at Pera, I passed a long examination before the 
civil authorities, and then repaired to Missirie's most 
comfortable hotel. It was a real pleasure to find myself 
once more in Europe ; and the crowds of people with hats 
on their heads, and without moustache upon their lips, 
appeared quite strange to me. I can easily understand 
the Moslem's contempt for, and dislike to, the shaven 



THE JBOSPHORUS. 



325 



face : once accustomed to the majestic beard and the 
manly moustache, the human countenance certainly 
assumes a very mean appearance when deprived of these 
natural adjuncts. The unveiled women, too, seemed very 
surprising, as they wandered about the streets at their 
own free will; and for the first day or two I felt more in- 
clined to ask a question of the courteous Oriental, than of 
the smart, foppish-looking Frank. 

The streets of Pera are steep and narrow, but otherwise 
strictly European in their appearance. Missirie's hotel 
would be considered excellent anywhere, but to a man 
who for nearly a twelvemonth had known no shelter but 
such as boats, khans, or tents afforded, it was absolutely 
luxurious. I found several friends here, moreover; and it 
was some time before I ordered horses, and set off for 
Buyukdere, the summer residence of our ambassador. 

A gaunt black slave, mounted on a camel-like horse, 
preceded me with my saddle-bags, and we passed at a 
gallop over the wide, bleak downs that surround Pera 
towards the north. In some of Vie valleys were tracts 
of great richness and fertility, and some comfortable farm- 
houses and homesteads delightfully reminded me that I 
was in Europe. After an hour's hard riding we came to 
Sthene, and thenceforth our path lay along the beautiful 
shores of the Bosphorus. 

This celebrated water somewhat resembles the straits 
of Menai in its shape and windings, but is on an infinitely 
larger scale : its steep shores are mostly wooded to the 
waters edge, and an almost continuous village runs from 
Pera to Buyukdere. Occasionally this scattered array of 
cottages and palaces collects into a town, as at Therapia, 
where the greater number of the ambassadors have summer 
residences: sometimes it is broken by terraces shaded 
with trellised vines, or shady recesses among the cliffs, 
where the inhabitants sit sipping sherbet and smoking 
their chibouques. Most of the women wore the pictu- 
resque Greek dress, and there was a sufficient sprinkling 
of Oriental costume among the men to confer a very im- 
posing appearance on these groups. Pleasure seemed to 
be the only business of their lives; every scene disclosed a 
garden, every building was a palace, or a fort, or a cot- 



326 



THE SYMPLEGADES. 



tage ornee. On we went at a gallop along the shore, or 
above the hills, or thundering through the towns, except 
where some gaily-painted car, full of women, and drawn 
by two white oxen, blocked up the way. The sun's last 
light fell upon the Black Sea as I rode into Buyukdere. 

Here I passed two or three most pleasant days ; and it 
did not require the contrast of solitude, privation, and 
hardship, to render appreciated the gifted society and 
refinements of life which I there enjoyed. 

Buyukdere is a very picturesque village, with green 
verandahs, and red-tiled roofs, and a pretty little quay, 
with other sea-port appendages in miniature. Men-of- 
war, with flags of the different nations represented by the 
ambassadors resident here, are moored a short distance 
from the shore. These contribute to vary the view reach- 
ing through a vista of high cliffs and fortresses to the 
Black Sea; numbers of caiques are shooting constantly 
across the bright blue bay to Tkerapia; the vine-clad hills 
and grassy cliffs are mottled with the bright garments of 
the Greek inhabitants, and the whole scene is full of 
interest and animation. 

One morning, I took a caique to visit the Symplogacles 
and the Black Sea : these graceful boats are the principal 
means of transit along the Bosphorus, as gondolas are at 
Venice ; their bows are very sharp, and rise so far that 
only one-half of the caique seems to rest upon the water. 
Their sides are formed of a single plank of very thin 
beech, and are quaintly adorned with gilding and oak- 
carving; you recline on silken cushions that supersede ail 
seats, and, thus reposing, are shot along with incredible 
rapidity. 

Rowed by two athletic Turks, I passed by a succession 
of bold cliffs and verdant valleys opening from the strait, 
with numerous forts close to the water's edge, and in less 
than an hour I was bounding over the waters of the 
Euxine. The light caique leapt from wave to wave of 
this troubled water like a sea-gull, and it was with some 
difficulty we disembarked on the mass of dark and rugged 
cliffs that represent the Symph-gades, or Cyanean rocks. 
This singular pile starts up from the sea to a considerable 
height, surmounted by an altar of pure white Parian 



UXKIAR GKELESSI. 



marble. Who raised the lonely altar on this wild island 
none can tell; but imagination will hare it to be a votive 
monument of some rescued mariner in the times when 
Argo sailed these seas. 

The view from thence is very striking, commanding a 
wide range of the European and Asiatic shores, and of 
that gloomy and turbulent sea so celebrated in the songs 
of the sunny Archipelago. The light-houses of Europe 
and of Asia serve to guard as well as to enlighten the 
entrance to the Bosphorus, and their strong fortresses add 
to the effect of the bold and naked cliffs on which they 
stand. 

W e went one evening from the ambassador's palace to 
visit Unkiar Skelessi, an old fortress crowning one of the 
Asiatic hills. The sunset was magnificent, and the Bos- 
phorus beneath us seemed one sheet of burning gold ; 
while far away, over hill, and vale, and ruined tower, and 
broken aqueduct, the crimson light lent a new charm and 
marvel to the splendid landscape. Yet when the sun was 
gone, he could scarcely be regretted; evening came on with 
so beautiful and bright an aspect, with such diamond 
stars, and azure sky, and fragrant flower-smells, and 
softened sounds. As we glided away from that grand old 
castle of the Genoese, it seemed restored by the doub:ful 
light to all its strength ; the hanging woods and beetling 
cliffs were reflected in the star-spangled stream ; the air 
seemed exquisitely sensitive to the faint fragrance and the 
distant song ; and it was like the breaking of a spell when 
the caique struck lightly against the marble terrace of the 
Palazzo. 

On the 2nd of August, I left Buyukdere, and my caique 
shot rapidly along the bright blue stream towards Con- 
stantinople; on the eastern shore, the "Sweet Waters of 
Asia" with the Sultan's palace, claimed a visit : and the 
beautiful village of Candalie may not be neglected, if it 
were only in memory of Jupiter's adventure with Europa, 
and the deep allegory it contains. 

Constantinople is a delightful summer residence, but the 
climate in winter is very disagreeable, and has none of 
those counteracting comforts that make us warmly wel- 
come winter to our English hearths. The view from the 



S23 



CONSTANTINOPLE. 



bnrying-gToimd at Pera is one of the finest in the world; 
here a]l the gay people of the Frank city assemble in the 
evening, and wander among the tombs with merry chat 
and laughter ; or sit beneath the cypress-trees, eating ice 
and smoking their chibouques. We looked down over the 
roofs of Tophana and Galata upon the Golden Horn, 
whose appellation the sunset seems to realize :* its waters 
are specked by many a caique, and reflect the white sails 
of a hundred ships; beyond it suddenly rises Stamboulf 
itself, its richly-mingled masses of dark foliage and white 
palaces enveloping the peninsula, whose point terminates 
in the Sultan's seraglio with its gardens. The undulations 
of the Seven Hills may be traced through the city that 
encrusts them, and occasionally you catch glimpses of the 
Seven Towers, the Palace of Belisarius, and the brave old 
walls. Over all rises Mount Olympus, connecting earth's 
scenery with that of cloud-land. 

All these, of course, we visited in detail, but they are 
too familiar to every reader to claim description. The 
Mosque of St. Sophia, with all its spoils,J and the remains 
of such magnificence as led Justinian to exclaim, " Thank 
God I have been enabled to outdo Solomon \ v scarce repays 
the trouble of procuring a special firman, and the troop of 
guards that must accompany you. A mosque seems to me 
the most uninviting and prayerless-looking place of 
worship in the world : it is naked, altarless, tawdry, and 
dreary-looking. The Sultan's palace contains a bewil- 
dering number of apartments of quaint shapes and simple 
ornament : some are carpeted, some mirrorred ; there is 
no furniture, except cushions, and a very few tables, in 

* This epithet was applied to it in the Greek times, and perhaps 
had some analogy with the crescent. In the East generally,, the 
epithet " golden" is applied as a term of excellence ; thus there is the 
Golden Gate at Jerusalem, &c. 

t The Turkish name of Constantinople. When the city was taken 
by the Turks, its ancient name was forbidden to be used, and the 
country people used to speak of going u ac Ti]v iroXiv" whence 
Stamboul f they say. They also say it is called from Islam -bol, 
" abounding in faith." 

X Among these are eight porphyry columns from Baalbec, and eight 
more from Diana's Temple at Epiiesus, 



CONSTANTINOPLE. 



329 



any of them; but the views from the windows are superb. 
Those of the Harem" look out upon the Bosphorus, 

" whose waters roll 

O'er many a once love -beaten breast." 

The other sights of Constantinople are so similar or 
inferior to those of more thoroughly Oriental cities, that I 
shall not run the risk of repeating myself by describing 
them. The walls of the city, protecting the peninsula on 
the land-side only, are by far the most interesting remains 
of ancient Constantinople. They extend from the Sea of 
Marmora to the Golden Horn, a distance of about five 
miles, and connect a chain of towers through their whole 
extent. They are divided by a deep fosse from another 
battlemented range of walls, which is surrounded by a 
moat and a sort of glacis. Mantling as they are with ivy, 
their war-worn fronts deeply scarred from the crusading 
and the Turkish battering-engines, they still present a 
most imposing appearance. Ruin has only made them 
reverend, and left them all their lofty look. The road 
along their base was profoundly silent; on the left lay an 
extensive cemetery, where the cypress shadowed the Mos- 
lem's tomb with its sculptured turban, and the terebinth 
kept watch by the Armenian's grave. They say that this 
homeless people brought this tree with them from the 
shores of Lake Van, and now love to see those who are 
dear to them sheltered in their last sleep by its ancestral 
shade. 

The cicerone affects to show the spot where Paleologus 
fell as became the last of the Caesars : it is unnecessary : 
for every stone of that well- defended rampart is a monu- 
ment to his heroic name. His was no mere animal 
courage — the wild brain-fever of the moment : he saw the 
hour of destruction approaching from a distance: he with- 
stood the work of dastardly treachery within, as bravely 
as the war of the Infidel without, the citv; he had not 
even one glimmering of earthlv hope to light him onward; 
but Honour was her own beacon, and showed him where 
and how to die. Even in his death he was identified 
with the people he loved so well, and days elapsed before 
his body was discovered, so mangled that the eagle 

* This word is pronounced har'm in Turkish— hareem in Arabic. 



330 



THE PORTE. 



embroidered on his dress alone told to whom it had 
belonged. 

We entered the city by a gate through which the 
Romans were wont to pass, and rode up to the palace of 
Belisarius. in whose courtyard swarms of women and 
naked children were harboured; the former tried to con- 
ceal their sun-scorched faces with some dirty rag, while 
they held up the other hand for charity, or strove to seize 
our bridles. Passing from this screaming mob. whose 
faces were the only decently covered part of their persons, 
we ascended by some ruinous stone steps to the palace 
halls : here Desolation dwells alone : 
" The spider liatli woven his web in the palace, 
And the owl hath sung her death-song on the towers of Afrasiab."* 

The view from these mouldering walls is the finest in 
Constantinople. There are nine gates or partes to the 
city, the most remarkable of which is the H Bab el Hama- 
joom/' looking out towards Pera : here sits the supreme 
council of the empire, and the appellation of government 
is identified with the Porte which it occupies. In all 
Oriental countries, the gate was selected as the place for 
administering justice, as being the most public and the 
easiest of access. The Turks retained many of their 
ancient usuages among the Greek customs which, for the 
most part, they adopted, and this is one of the most 
remarkable.! 

We had a busy time of it at Constantinople. I found 
a pleasant party at Missirie's hotel, and every hour of 
the day, and almost of the night, brought with it its 
engagement. Caiques and horses were in constant re- 
quisition, whether to skim the bright Bosphorus, or to 
scour the environs of Stamboul. On Friday, we hurried 
down to the shore, to see the Sultan going to mosque, as 
a royal salute from the Seraglio announced that his caique 
had left the palace ; ours shot along swiftly, but the 
Sultan's seemed to fly: twenty-six rowers, in silken 
jackets, urged each gilded galley over, rather than 

* Hafiz. 

+ Mr. Thornton, however, ingeniously argues that the pal ice o c the 
Grand Vizier is called the Porte metaphorically, as being- the door oi 
communication between the Sultan and his people. 



THE SULTAN. 



S31 



through, tlie water. First came a caique, with a canopy 
of blue : under this a group of officers, in blue frock coats 
with diamond stars upon their breasts, sate all facing the 
Sultan, whose caique followed at a short distance. He 
sate under a green canopy, beneath which was spread a 
wide cloak of dark green cloth, lined with calico: four 
officers accompanied him. with their yellow faces turned 
towards his, like so many sunflowers : a third galley fol- 
lowed, and this comprised the procession. A regiment 
of troops, in Turco-European costume, awaited his arrival, 
and a very respectable band struck up a wild air, which, 
I suppose, meant, " Allah, save the Sultan!' 5 

He remained about half an hour in the mosque, then 
mounted a handsome horse, and passed with his suite 
through a dense crowd, of which we formed part. He 
is twenty-three years of age, and rather hand some, with 
a keen, dark eye, and brown moustache. He wore a 
plain blue frock coat, with a red cap and purple tassel: 
he stared at us as he passed, but took no other notice of our 
salute. There seemed a considerable display of taking 
care of him ; but evidently, the large attendance of guards, 
and the mystery maintained as to his movements, were 
measures of etiquette rather than of safety. Grand viziers 
seem to undertake all the unpopularity of the sovereign, 
together with their other responsibilities : they are often 
exposed to popular fury — the Sultan never. His divine 
character, as the vice-regent of the Prophet, adds consi- 
derably to his temporal authority ; and, when the late 
Sultan Mahnioud found himself in a crisis in which no 
political expedient could avail him, he had only to unfurl 
the Sacred Standard (consisting of the unmentionables of 
2-Jahomet) ; the people flocked round him with devotion, 
and the jaiizaries were extirpated. 

Sultan Mahmoud was one of the five great men who 
have been the instruments of signalizing our age. He 
ventured on the glorious attempt which few have sur- 
vived, and none have ever lived to see accomplished — 
that of regenerating a corrupt people. The attempt 
failed utterly, as regarded the creation of new powers 
and capacities: the old were destroyed; but there was 
no reproductive principle in the Turkish character. At 



SMYRNA. 



the bidding of his Sultan, the Turk laid aside the external 
distinctions of his race, and with them he abandoned the 
sustaining pride, the consciousness of superiority, the 
elevating fanaticism that fused his patriotism and his 
creed into one great passion. His contempt for the 
Frank, whose politics, dress, and mode of warfare he had 
been compelled to assume, has reacted into respect and 
fear ; such fear, at least, as a Turk can know, for they 
are a gallant people still, those Osmanlis ;* and though 
they feel that their empire is drawing to a close, and are 
prepared for the fulfilment of one of those strange old 
prophecies, like that which prepared the Yncas for the 
subjugation of their country, they will doubtless die fear- 
lessly in defence of those walls so fearlessly won by their 
fierce ancestors. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

GREECE. 

What must have been thy nature, oh Greece ! when, marvellovis- 

lovely ? 

As it is now, it is only the tomb of an ancient existence. 

R. M. MlLNES. 

On the morning after sailing from Constantinople we 
found ourselves off the plains of Troy, whence we rau 
along the coast of Tenedos, and touched at the pretty 
little town of Mitylene. Thence we coasted by Scio, and 
entering the Gulf of Smyrna, cast anchor off the town, 
forty hours after leaving the Golden Horn. 

The beauty of u Infidel Ismir," as Smyrna is called by 
the Turks, has been much vaunted, yet scarcely realizes 
the idea of the old Ionian loveliness. The scenery around 
the gulf is wild, and wide, and mountainous ; softening 
a little as it approaches the city, and becomes inter- 
spersed with the gardens and villas of the wealthy 

* This is the name by which they choose to be called. Turk is an 
epithet of concempt, though they call their country and their language 
Toorkey. 



QUARANTINE. 



333 



merchants. Smyrna itself is a common-place, Turkish 
town, with dirty, narrow streets, and melancholy-looking 
bazaars. I had little opportunity of judging of the 
women's celebrated beauty, as we only remained here 
during the noontide hours ; all the fairest part of creation 
were then hiding themselves from the scorching sun. 

On a hill commanding the city are some fine ruins, 
and the remains of an early Christian church. We are 
sometimes accustomed to think of the Seven Churches 
of Asia Minor as of so many distinct edifices, visible, 
and architectural ; many a traveller who would smile at 
being asked to describe the shape of the Church of 
England, or of Scotland, has gone eagerly in search of 
each seventh part of Asiatic Christendom. Tradition 
consecrates Smyrna as the place where Polycarp suffered 
martyrdom; man and nature have well avenged him ever 
since upon the Smyrniotes. Earthquakes, plagues, and 
Turks have done their worst to this devoted city, but the 
elastic energies of commerce have still sustained it in its 
troubles, and triumphed over pestilence and persecution. 
The English almost monopolize the fruit trade, the French 
devote themselves to cotton, and the Dutch, who formerly 
held the principal commerce in their own hands, have now 
scarcely a representative. 

The heat of the climate here is moderated daily by a 
fresh sea-breeze, that blows without intermission from 
noon to sunset, at which time we sailed. The next day 
found us in the Grecian Archipelago, with Delos, Tinos, 
and Syra lying round us. We cast anchor in the harbour 
of the latter towards evening, and landed on a rocky 
promontory opposite the town. 

Here we were to perform European quarantine, and 
our prison looked dismal enough as the stormy evening 
set in, and the wind howled round the naked walls and 
desolate rocks of our dwelling. But the next morning 
brought sunshine and cheerfulness ; our rooms were fur- 
nished, our books, &c, were unpacked, guardianos were 
assigned us, and the British Consul kindly sent us a file 
of newspapers. 

The climate, however, is delightful, though it never 
ceased to blow luring our stay at Syra. The wind wailed 



334 



SYR A. 



wildly and mournfully round our prison as in an English 
November, contrasting curiously with the clear bright 
sky, and the rich cheerful colouring that invests even this 
bleak rocky island with a beauty not its own. We look 
out to the eastward upon the island of Tinos. which 
assumes every hue of the rainbow in the course of each 
cameleon day : a deep purple sea, flecked constantly with 
foam, breaks against our cliffs ; and opposite us, divided 
by a little bay, crowded with shipping, lies the town of 
Syra • its mass of white houses running in a conical shape 
to the summit of the convent-crowned hill. 

At length our quarantine was finished ; I almost re- 
gretted our release, for the perfect repose that it neces- 
sitated was very grateful after incessant and laborious 
travel. I had come to love the rocks, and the bright sea, 
and the changing views around me; nothing felt irksome 
but the sense of confinement.* 

On the day of our release, we rose with light to wel- 
come liberty, and, breakfasting at Sj'ra, were soon riding 
up to the summit of the lofty hill of which the island is 
composed. From here we had a magnificent view of the 
Cyclades, girding round the birthplace of Apollo and 
Latona, and picturesquely scattered about among those 
bright blue waters. 

The next day we sailed to Delos, a distance of about 
fifteen miles : favouring breezes soon brought us to the 
island of Rhenia, and thence up a narrow channel to the 
marble pier of the Sacred Island, whither the religious 
processions of ancient Greece came to worship at the 
shrines of Apollo and Diana. This island, like all the 
other Cyclades, is destitute of trees, and almost equally so 
of verdure : some shrubs grow among the interstices of 
the rocks and in a degree relieve the eye, but it is to the 
brilliant colouring of their delicious climate that they owe 
all their beauty. It is impossible to describe the delicate 
and fugitive tints that invest every hill and valley in 
rapid succession ; the sea itself is ever vacying, and 
reflects their picturesque forms in green, or blue, or azure, 
as the sky's mood changes. 

* Syra has since then ceased to be a quarantine station, which ia 
now transferred to Athens, as a more convenient locality. 



T>FXOS. 



835 



Delos is about three miles in circumference. Mount 
Cyuthus, in whose recesses painters and poets have placed 
Diana, fatigued with the chace or bathing her immaculate 
form, is about half the size of Primrose Hill. There is no 
spring on the island, and the sacred lake is dry; the soil 
is everywhere strewed with ruins, but it is difficult to 
identify the site of the temples : the amphitheatre is a 
noble monument of Hellenic architecture, and as perfect 
as a ruin ought to be. The island has been very little 
visited, and there appears to be a wide field for research 
amongst its varied relics. Our party was a large one, and 
consisted, moreover, entirely of English : a circumstance 
which, I know not why, is always fatal to research, or 
even to reflection : a scoffing spirit inevitably prevails; 
and whether on the mountain of Parnassus, or in the val- 
ley of Jehoshaphat, our countrymen seem to think that 
every thing is unreal except themselves and their sand- 
wiches : this is the very triumph of objectivity. 

The following day we sailed from Syra, over waves 
that might have seemed a shoal of dying dolphins, such 
various and beautiful colours played over every undulation 
in the exquisite light of a Grecian sunset. Then DianV 
own bright orb rose over her native island, followed by 
Hesperus, 

" that planet blest, 

The lover's lamp, the wanderer's pledge of rest." 

Brilliantly beautiful as are the days in this delicious 
climate, the nights have a loveliness that can scarcely be 
surpassed in that world of delights that " eye hath not 
seen, nor ear heard." The serene heavens above; the soft 
music of the rippling waves, with the lustrous foam upon 
their crest and the purple shadows of their depths; the 
balmy airs, the storied islands among which you wander 
— all this restores a poetry to the most blase existence — a 
poetry that has lingered unconsciously about the heart 
since youth, and which, when once awakened, is not easily 
scoffed down. 

In such ''a time, and clime, and spot," long years, with 
all their burthen, pass away from the tranced spirit : with 
a boy's glad heart, and childhood's enthusiasm, we gaze on 
the glorious scenery that surrounds us, as Argolis, iEgina, 



336 



GREECE. 



Saiamis, and the Immortal Mountain, start into view. 
Now the Acropolis of Athens greets us like some well- 
remembered vision; and, rounding the promontory that 
supports the tomb of Theniistocles, we glide into the har- 
bour of the Piraeus. 

Down goes the anchor, and with it all sentiment, to 
the bottom of the sea. This renowned harbour is ex- 
ceedingly matter-of-fact in its present appearance. Well- 
slated store houses and custom -offices line the quays : 
commissionaires from various hotels persecute you with 
most European pertinacity : and — by the shade of Ana- 
creon ! — there is a gin-shop that would not surprise you 
at Portsmouth; and there ! — there is an omnibus waiting 
to whirl you along the macadamized road to Athens at 
sixpence a head ! The smart phaeton in which we depo- 
sited our persons was not more classical except in name ; 
but the coachman wore the Greek costume, and greaves 
embroidered after the Achillean fashion. 

The six miles of road that leads to Athens is one of the 
most interesting that one travels in the course of a life, 
notwithstanding the omnibuses, and the gin-shops, and the 
turnpike-gates. As we drive along, we seem to recognize 
each feature of nature and of art, so long familiar to the 
imagination, until we rattle through a town which might 
escape observation at Islington; and finally emerge into a 
large open space, terminated by the shapeless palace of 
King Otho. This square is enclosed on either side by 
large modern houses; one of these, the Hotel d'Orient, 
was our destination. 

Since Athens has been gathered into the European 
family and restored to Christendom, it has become as 
familiar to the public as Edinburgh. It would, however, 
be too late at this period of my pilgrimage to affect fas- 
tidiousness in treading upon beaten ground ; and this is 
the spot above all others on which I should like to 
linger, and, if it must be so, to take my leave of the 
gentle reader. 

Greece is one of the few countries that I have an ardent 
desire to revisit, and yet, at every step one takes, there 
is an annoying — almost a painful — sense of incongruity 
between its present and its past ; and, what is worse, a 



GREECE. 



hopeless attempt to reconcile them. In Rome, the gra- 
dation from the older to the later time is almost imper- 
ceptible; the gods, temples, and ceremonies were converted 
to Christianity, together with the souls of men. The 
bronze statue of Jupiter became St. Peter, and Juno has 
transmitted her peacock feathers to the state insignia of 
the Pope ; the Tomb of Adrian has resolved itself into the 
Castle of St. Angelo ; and, more than all else, the vitality 
of Roman Art connects the present with the past. Scarcely 
had the awakened taste of Europe begun to appreciate 
the beauty of the Pantheon, when Michael Angelo ex- 
claimed, " I will place it in the air l" and kept his word 
by crowning St. Peter's church with such another for a 
dome. Petrarch was crowned with laurel on the capital 
without any apparent sense of ridicule \ Rienzi ably acted 
the character of the Last of the Tribunes : Painting caught 
the mantle which Sculpture had let fall ; and Raphael's 
pencil realized conceptions as glorious as the chisel of 
Phidias had ever wrought. 

With Greece it was otherwise — in her fate seemed 
verified the pagan aphorism, "Whom the gods love die 
young." She passed away in the season of her triumphant 
youth ; she perished in her pride ; and, through the 
night of ages that followed, her imperishable name alone 
was remembered. Even in Caesar's triumph, he "'spared 
the contemptible living only for the sake of their glorious 
dead." 

And now, a Bavarian king and an alien people are to 
restore the glory of ancient Greece ! Verily, they seem 
like children playing at statesmen and soldiers, and no 
place will serve for their game but Athena's own sacred 
precincts. Behold the first fruits of resuscitated Grecian 
art — the palace of King Otho 1 Full in the sight of the 
Acropolis, in the same plain with the Temple of Theseus, 
and in the solemn presence of that Olympian Jove, there 
stands a huge, white, cubic edifice that would disgrace 
Trafalgar-square \ of the Piraeus I have already spoken ; 
on the Hill of the Musaeuni, within a stone's throw of the 
Acropolis, there has just been erected an observatory, that 
stands in as hideous contrast to the Parthenon as Caliban 
to Ariel. Such are the first and most prominent objects 

z 



338 



ATHENS. 



that strike a stranger's eye, and they are characteristic of 
all modern Greece. No one can blame this people for 
wishing to become a nation ; but their ambition to become 
ancient Greeks, and to make the Athens of Otho identical 
with that of Pericles, is fraught with embarrassment and 
hopeless difficulty. 

Athens is rather a neat, little, modern town ; with 
shops, and market-places, and porters, and hand-barrows, 
and horseboys, and all that sort of thing. There are. for- 
tunately, but few vestiges of antiquity enclosed within 
these modern walls : and the two most remarkable, the 
Porch of Adrian and the Temple of the Winds, do not 
suffer much from their position. The residences of the 
ministers of foreign courts form a quarter by themselves, 
and suburban buildings of true cockney fashion are rapidly 
extending in all directions. 

My first impressions of Athens, it is unnecessary to say. 
were anything but satisfactory ; but when I walked a few 
hundred paces out of the noisy city, and found myself in a 
solitude as deep as that of the desert. I was appeased : 
the ;i religion of the place " : came over me once more as I 
stood under those magnificent columns of the Temple of 
Jupiter Olympus. f * that plead so haughtily for times gone 
by." Few of these mighty pillars remain, and these are 
but partially connected by architrave and entablature, yet 
they form the most imposing ruin I hare ever seen. The 
vast and massive monuments of Egypt are wanting in the 
majesty and grace which unite that beauty to sublimity, 
without which the latter repels, rather than invites or 
creates, the sympathy of the spectator. Around this ruin 
there was the profoundest silence, and it stood utterly 
alone; there was not a fallen column or a splinter there : 
the only living creature was a Turk, whose barbaric garb 
harmonized to my mind with the scene in which I found 
him. It was his ruthless race that had made Athens deso- 
late; it was owing to his brethren that the temple now 
stood in its imposing solitude, for their artillery had swept 
away all the modern buildings that once surrounded and 
encumbered it. Moreover, he stood there, the representa- 
tive of those great Eastern hordes whom Athens had now, 
lor the third time, expelled from her sacred precincts. In 



THE ACROPOLIB. 



339 



the days when Xerxes or Mahmoud planted their standards 
upon Grecian ground, the figure of a Persian or Osmanli 
might seem intrusive — but now my turbaned companion 
stood upon that free soil, like one of the Caryatides of old 
— a monument of his own defeat. 

Athens, the smallest metropolis in Europe, has for its 
suburbs edifices that have been marvels and models to the 
whole world. From St. Petersburgh to Washington, there 
is not an attempt at ornamental architecture that does not 
claim descent from some one or other of these immortal 
structures. I shall not attempt to describe them, but 
merely recapitulate a few of the scenes of interest lying 
within an hour's ride of Athens. 

From the Temple of Jupiter we passed under the Arch 
of Adrian to the Lantern of Demosthenes, which is 
encumbered by hovels; the Odeum of Pericles, the Theatre 
of Bacchus, the Odeum of Pegilla; thence by a winding 
path to the Acropolis. 

This was the great altar of the country, whereon were 
deposited the most precious offerings of art that human 
genius ever realized. Its presiding deity was the Goddess 
of the Mind, in whose Phidian statue her own inspiration 
was divinely evidenced. This was the Minerva Parthenos, 
which overlooked all Greece and the outer world : while 
Practical Wisdom (or Common Sense 1) had its represen- 
tative in Minerva Polias, whose statue, 6 looked at home," 
and kept watch over the city. 

On entering by the propylsea, the first object of interest 
is the beautiful little temple of Victory, which was built 
to commemorate the expulsion of the Eastern hordes under 
Mardonius; strange to say, on the expulsion of their 
Eastern invaders under Mahmoud, this temple came again 
appropriately to light; it was rescued from the debris 
caused by various sieges, and is now restored in all its 
pristine beautv to its original site. It is an allegory in 
itself. 

The first object that strikes one after passing this little 
fane is the tall Frank Tower, whose removal has been so 
much debated. Notwithstanding its heterogeneous appear- 
ance, it would be much missed; its effect at a little distance 

z 2 



340 



GREECE. 



is excellent, and its removal would leave a blank which 
there is nothing, to fill up. 

The Parthenon occupies the southern side of the Acro- 
polis, but seems, as it were, to pervade it all with its own 
surpassing beauty, and to monopolize that natural altar, 
so that all its other temples seem subservient to that one. 
It is admirably chaste, as becomes its virginal dedication ; 
bat the friezes that surmount the simplicity of those 
columns contain the most exquisite sculpture in the world. 
This temple has been repaired as far as its own ruins 
afforded materials, but no substitute can supply their place 
where wanting. What a proud tribute to ancient art is 
this impossibility to restore what Time or Lord Elgin has 
removed ! it reminds one of the genii-built palace of 
Aladdin, wherein one window was left unfinished, and this 
all the wealth and art of the East were unable to make 
equal to the rest. 

The work of renovation still goes on, but scantily, 
through want of funds ; meanwhile, the scaffoldings, and 
prepared materials, and assorted fragments, give the 
Acropolis the appearance of something between a museum 
and a mason's yard. 

The view from hence is magnificent : it is not merely 
that the features of the scenery around are as beautiful as 
they are eloquent with a thousand memories; but the 
climate invests all nature with such varied and exquisite 
colouring, as in these northern latitudes one sees only in 
the sunset landscapes of "cloudland." The scanty stream 
of the Cepbisus, the heathy mountain of Hymettus, the 
barren summit of Pentelicus, the olive-groves, the grassy 
plains, the distant sea, all are invested with a marvellous 
light — gorgeous as a painted window, yet delicate as the 
complexion of a changing cheek. 

We will not linger on the Hill of the Museum, or even 
on that of the Nymphs; but let us pause a moment on 
the Pnyx, whence all oratory derives its models, as all 
architecture does from the Acropolis. The Bema, from 
which Demosthenes thundered against Macedon, might be 
taken for an altar, but for its tradition ; it is hewn out of 
the solid rock, and surrounded by steps, on which sat the 
Prytanes — the Athenian house of lords. Beneath is c* 



GREECE. 



platfoim capable of containing 5,000 men — the commons 
of the old Republic. The Be ma, whence the orators 
harangued the people, commanded in very ancient times a 
wide view of earth and sea; but the Thirty Tyrants, 
fearing the powerful appeals to freedom and to Salamis 
that its position suggested and gave effect to, had it cut 
down to its present elevation, commanding only Athens 
and the surrounding plain ; it was from this last, however, 
that Demosthenes hurled those " winged words/' more ter- 
rible to Philip than the swords that tbey evoked. 

What a strangely glorious, contemptible people were 
those old Athenians ! — now, like gods, arming themselves for 
Marathon, or abandoning their worshipped Athens for the 
'•wooden walls" that fought round Salamis; now like 
children intoxicated with success or prostrated by defeat; 
swayed by the meanest passions of jealousy and avarice ; 
banishing an Aristides, robbing friendlv colonies, and 
leaving a Miltiades to die in chains. 

Yet, let us not forget all we owe to this wonderful 
people; "how much more has the little peaceful Athens 
done for the world than that raging giant, Rome !"* The 
earliest and brightest associations of the young heart are 
connected with the name of Greece : in her sublime story, 
the boy first finds his task become an inspiration : under 
its spell heroic instincts become developed, patriotism 
becomes devotion, and the love of Freedom a quenchless 
passion. 

If Greece accomplished the most heroic deeds, her 
eloquent language first rendered them immortal; justly, 
the statue of the Goddess of the Mind stood supreme 
among the monuments of Freedom's and of Greece's 
triumphs; for the orator first inspired, and the historian 
recorded them — in itself another inspiration. Grecian 
poets they were who first perceived and translated to the 
world its own exquisite beauty; and to her sculptors it 
was first revealed that there slept, enveloped in the Parian 
marble, those ideal forms of grace, and strength, and 
loveliness, which it required but their chisel to discover 
and awaken. 

A rugged rocky eminence rises between the Pnyx and 
* Jean Paul Richter. 



342 



KING OTHO. 



the Acropolis; this is the Areopagus, whereon Paul 
preached with power on the very throne of eloquence, 
and denounced idolatry in the midst of idols. With a 
mythology that made deities as numerous as the attri- 
butes of the Creator, how mournful and full of meaning 
was that Athenian altar "to the unknown God P 

We descend to a lower platform, whereon stands the 
Temple of Theseus, which Time seems to have swept over 
with his wing, and not his scythe. Indeed, at a little 
distance it is scarcely distinguishable from its imitation 
in Edinburgh, except by the delicate "neutral tint"' that 
has stolen over its once snowy marble. 

The Cephisus, which formerly arrested the march of 
the Persian army, now trickles languidly along its 
shrunken course: the Ilyssus exists no longer, but a 
torrent-like line of oleanders seem still to fill its coarse 
with verdant waves and rosy foam. The olive and the 
fig-tree have almost disappeared, and the hills are naked, 
except where the Hymettus heath still blossoms for its 
bees. These hills were once thickly covered with wild 
wood, and would soon be so again, but that the peasants 
burn them clown, in order to apply their ashes to their 
exhausted soil. 

Modern Greece appeared to me to be full of promise, 
notwithstanding her factious people, and her puerile king. 
Otho was doubtless a most unfortunate choice, as monarch 
of an infant state; and it is said that King Leopold now 
deeply repents not having accepted the offer of the throne 
of Greece. With his talents, his experience, and his 
moderation, he might have already found himself the 
king of a great people, and not impossibly have be- 
queathed to his successors the empire of the Palseologi. 

The present sovereign of Greece does not seem pos- 
sessed of one kingly quality. Educated with a view to 
a cardinal's hat, his Jesuit tutors are not perhaps respon- 
sible for his royal acquirements, bat Europe has already 
had fearful instances of the result of such an education. 
Until the late revolution, Otho was the most despotic 
monarch in Christendom; of the parliament, so long pro- 
mised and so solemnly guaranteed, there w«s no trace; 
the council was composed of his creatures, whose tenure 



GREECE. 



of office depended on his will; Bavarians monopolized 
every place of trust, honour, or emolument; all claims of 
service established in the War of Independence were set 
at nought; and those who ranked as princes in the tented 
field found themselves undistinguished and unnoticed at 
the court of the monarch whom they had placed upon the 
throne. 

The two grand national mortgages afford no interest to 
the bondholders; Rothschild secures only his repayment 
by the guarantee of the three great powers. The civil 
list amounts to about £36,000 per annum, and the king 
retains his Bavarian appanage of £7000 a-year. 

The population of Greece does not amount to above 
900,000 souls ; and this, notwithstanding the fecundity of 
the people, is daily diminishing, owing to emigration. 
When the independence of Greece was first declared, 
numbers of Fanariot ( or Constantinopolitan ) Greeks 
repaired to their own country, but, rinding the despotism 
and oppression there more galling than in the Turkish 
provinces, they returned hastily to the Sultan's rule. 

There are about 12,000,000 of acres contained within 
the boundaries, as defined by the three great Powers ; of 
these more than half are comprised in the Morea. It is 
computed that 5,000.000 of people could find ample 
subsistence in this highly-favoured country, if its resources 
were fairly developed. There is not a landed proprietor 
in Greece worth £500 a-year : the revenues of the 
church were all confiscated in tbe revolution, and the 
clergy are at present poorly paid by the government, or 
rather by the king. Some Englishmen have settled in 
the Negropont and other parts of Greece, but, owing to 
the taxes and other drawbacks, they do not receive above 
one-and-a-half per cent, on their purchase-money. 

The people are sober, intelligent, and easily governed : 
their passion is for constitutional rights and education. It 
is very interesting to observe their zeal for their native 
literature, and their anxiety to restore their language to 
its ancient purity. The schools are eagerly filled by 
hundreds of little Demostheneses, Miltiadeses, Aspasias, 
and other immortal names. 

Mr. and Mrs. Hill, American episcopal missionaries, 



344 



GREECE. 



have done more for Greece tlian all the Philhellenes put 
together; the Scriptures, and the leading doctrines of the 
Christian faith, are taught without reference to any parti- 
cular creed; and this mode of education is unopposed by 
any party. 

A handsome university has been erected at Athens, and 
endowed by public subscription; but the king, as usual, 
laid hands upon it. and appropriated all the patronage to 
himself. It is interesting to observe the endeavours that 
Greece has always made, through all her disadvantages, to 
cultivate that literature to which her poverty-stricken 
people still fondly cling, as by aninstinct. Joannina was 
famous for its schools one hundred years ago under Me- 
thodius, and recently, under Athanasius, Psalida, and 
Valano. Daniel of Patmos had a school of repute in that 
island; and Scio and Athens have preserve'! their colleges 
through all the disastrous vicissitudes of Turkish rule and 
civil war. 

It seems to me that Greece has never received sufficient 
credit for her gallant and successful struggle against her 
Turkish oppressors: it was the mcst heroic strife of 
modern times, and it is to be compared only to that now 
carried on by the brave Circassians, to whom may Heaven 
vouchsafe a like successful issue ! Under the Turkish 
domination, the Greeks consisted of the warrior people of 
the hills, and the trampled serfs of the Plain. The former 
never have been conquered, though assailed in turn by the 
Byzantine, Catalan,. Venetian, and Osmanli. If the blood 
of ancient Greece does nut flow in their veins, her spirit is 
alive in their hearts; and many a battle-scene of the late 
fight for freedom displayed the classic character, as well as 
the heroism of the men of Thermopylae and Marathon, 

It is to be remembered that Greece, with a male popu- 
lation amounting scarcely to the number of the Sultan's 
army — disunited, ignorant of the art of war, without 
money, resources, or assistance — defeated the forces of 
the Ottoman and Egpytian army, and wrested freedom 
from their powerful oppressor. This is all that History 
will remember: she will cast away the petty details of 
treason, jealousy, and peculation, that probably darkened 
the day of Marathon as well as that of Missclonghi ; and 



GREECE. 



345 



only tell that Greece — after the lapse of three-and-twenty 
centuries — vindicated the glorious fame and freedom of 
the past. 

Until September 23rd, 1843, Greece exhibited a tyranny 
as despotic as any in the East : patiently and perse veringly 
she had striven to obtain from her Bavarian king the 
freedom so hardly wrung from a Moslem oppressor. Otho 
turned a deaf ear to such meek remonstrance. The Great 
Powers declined to interfere between the Grecian people 
and the Prince, who had been their liberal and only contri- 
bution to the welfare of this restored member of the Euro- 
pean family. 

The revolution took place a few days after I left Athens. 
Whilst I remained there, the king and queen drove or 
rode out, without any guards, every evening at sunset. 
The former, though far from handsome, looked well in the 
beautiful Greek dress, and carefully returned the salute of 
every citizen. The latter has a fine figure and command- 
ing presence. It is said that, when a child, she used to 
pore with delight over the romantic history of Greece, and 
long to visit a country which had deeply impressed her 
imagination. Time sped on, and brought Otho and his 
crown to her feet.* 

The chief object of attraction, however, in the royal 
cavalcade, was Mademoiselle Botzaris,f daughter of the 
hero of Missolonghi. She is maid of honour to the queen, 
and one of the most beautiful women in Europe. The sim- 
plicity of her dress, which consisted of an English riding- 
habit, and the crimson cap of her country, served to set off 
her classic beauty to advantage. 

The Greeks are the handsomest race of men I have ever 
seen, while their women are very much the reverse. The 
dress of the former, together with their graceful, manly 
bearing, contributes much to the imposing effect of their 
appearance. They wear a crimson cap, with a long blue 
tassel, a purple or dark green jacket over a richly embroi- 
dered waistcoat, a very voluminous white kilt descending 

* The King is a Roman Catholic, the Queen a Lutheran, and the 
children (should they have any) are to be educated in the ritual of the 
Greek Church. 

f Since married to Prince Soutzo. 



346 



GREECE. 



below the knee, and tightly girded round the waist with a 
Syrian scarf ; embroidered greaves complete the costume. 

The newspapers, advertisements, public regulations, and 
all official documents, are written in classic Greek; the 
language of the people is making vigorous efforts to attain 
to its pristine purity, and nothing can exceed the desire of 
the people of all ages for education. 

When the Roman empire was transferred to Byzantium, 
the emigrants strove to dignify their new localities with 
old names and associations. Thus the metropolitan pro- 
vince was called Romelia, the language Romaic, and the 
trifling undulations of the city the Seven Hills. The 
Greece that is now re-appearing goes at once to the foun- 
tain head of history, and seeks to unite herself to her 
glorious youth. When I first found myself at Athens, 
this aspiration appeared to me as hopeless in its end as 
ridiculous in its means. The more I saw and heard,, how- 
ever, the less visionary appeared to be that hope; and I 
left Athens with the belief that the Greek Cross might yet 
replace the Crescent on the dome of St. Sophia, — and this 
before another century shall have passed away. 

My last evening at Athens was come; and I repaired 
to the ruins of Jupiter's temple, when the magical glow of 
a Grecian sunset was bathing those immortal hills in a 
violet or purple light, that slowly and imperceptibly alter- 
nated on height or glen. The majestic columns of the 
Temple towered into the ambrosial air, pale, but flushed 
with the deep radiance of a sky that softened down all 
thought of ruin from the scene, and left it only reverence. 
Jove's own bright star was visible through the pillared 
vista of his Temple, and shone upon the ancient sanctuary 
as if it were its Shekinah. And even thus, in the Elder 
World, every star was the type of some deity, who veiled 
his presence under that bright sign; as every mountain 
had its Oread, and every stream its Nymph, and every 
aspect of the Beautiful its augel. 

We sailed at sunrise, and reached the isthmus of 
Corinth about noon : our course lay through the gulf. 
The scenery of either shore was beautiful; the mountains 



missuloxghi. 



347 



of Parnassus and Cithgeron were in view : the islands of 
iEgina and Salamis were before us, and at length the 
Citadel of Corinth, whereon scarcely a ruin remains to tell 
of earth's most voluptuous city. We crossed the Isthmus 
by a road of six miles in length, and, re-embarking at 
Lutraki, ran down the Gulf of Lepanto to Patras. The 
next evening we passed Missolonghi, and stood out into 
the Adriatic Sea. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

THE IONIAN ISLANDS. 

Hurrah for the Spirit of England ; 

The bold, the true, the free, 
"Who stretched his hand 
With a king's command 

All over the circling sea ! 

Barry Cornwall. 

The same delightful climate, the same serene, unclouded 
nights, the fresh, breezy, radiant mornings, and soft, sweet, 
pensive evenings of the land we had left, followed us over 
the Adriatic Sea. 

Long after Missolonghi had passed from our view, it 
haunted our memories as the last scene of interest in 
glorious Greece. It is now become classic ground, as the 
death- scene of the Poet who preached, and of the Hero 
who fought for her sacred cause. Byron's remains have 
been removed to England, but Botzaris sleeps where he 
fell— 

fl Dying, as hearts like his should die, 
In the hot clasp of Victory." 

There are no words in poetry more pathetic than those 
which Byron wrote at Missolonghi, on his last birthday, 
breathing through their melody a spirit of utter sadness so 
mournfully contrasted with the brilliant and daring genius 
that inspired them. Even this last sad hope was defeated : 



BYRON ASD HOTZARIS. 



€i Seek out — less often sought than found — 
A soldier's grave ; for thee the best ; 
Then look around, and choose thy ground, 
And take thy rest." 

He lingered unaccountably at Cephalonia, when he 
might have turned the scale for Marco Botzaris; and died 
of quackery at Missolonghi, when he should have been 
storming the Castle of Lepanto with his Suliotes. Never- 
theless — 

"O'er the grave of Childe Harold Greek maidens shall weep ; 
In his own native land his loved relics shall sleep 

With the bones of the bravest and best : 
His name shall go down to the latest of time — 
Fame tell how he fought for earth's loveliest clime, 

And Mercy shall blot out the rest." 

The islands in the Adriatic are of a far fairer aspect 
than those of the Archipelago. Their forms are as pictu- 
:esque, and invested with almost as brilliant a colouring 
by their glowing atmosphere. Zante is very Arcadian- 
looking in her hills, and her valleys are richly clothed 
with vineyards of the delicate, small grape, called " uvse 
passolinge" by botanists, and currants by the public. The 
chief town of the island is very pretty and primitive- 
looking, owing to the low, cottage-look of its houses : this 
humility is begotten of fear, for the frequent earthquakes 
would render a second story a sword of Damocles, and the 
luxurious Zacynthians love to banquet at their ease. 
Within the twenty-four hours preceding our arrival there 
had been two shocks, which seemed to be considered quite 
matters of course upon the island. 

Ithaca is the most Homeric spot existing, except the 
Plains of Troy : its identity has been at length satisfacto- 
rily proved, after centuries of suspicion. Leucadia's pale* 
cliff vindicates its own authenticity. When Sappho's 
wild heart quenched its love in the waves from whence 
Love's goddess rose, it appears that many forlorn maidens 
tried the same experiment — and with no doubt an equally 
successful result, for the cliff is three hundred feet high. 

Cephalonia is the largest island belonging to the Sept- 
insular republic. It contains 50.000 inhabitants, nut 
* From Xevfcoc, white ; as Albion, from AlbuSc 



349 



withstanding its mountainous and picturesque appearance. 
Agostoli, its capital, was scarcely visible in the faint 
light of a young moon; it is said to be populous and 
prosperous. 

In the morning we passed by Parga, and about noon 
came to an anchor in the harbour of Corfu. 

Here was a sudden and most pleasant change — from 
nations numbed by slavery and enervated by vice, or 
restless with revolutionary fever, to the calm, strong, 
solid power and influences of our own glorious country. 
England's flag was flying on the citadel; England's mar- 
tial music filled the air ; and English hearts and hands 
welcomed us to Christendom. 

Although this pretty town has been remodelled and 
almost rebuilt in the course of the thirty years that have 
elapsed since the Septinsular Republic came under the 
British protectorate, there still remains enough of the 
architecture and the habits of its ancient masters to give 
it interest and novelty. On some of the more ancient 
buildings the Lion of St. Mark still remains; while the 
piazzas, narrow streets, and numerous cafes, have all a 
Venetian character. The Italian language, too, predo- 
minates over Greek and English in the Babel of the 
streets, and the greater number of the shops are lettered 
in the same tongue. 

As England is the greatest commercial country in the 
world, it follows that her colonies should be the most 
numerous and flourishing.* Yet wealth and protection 
are among the least of the advantages that they derive 
from the mother country: English character, energy, 
industry, and tolerance, furnish all the qualifications 
essential to the increase and stability of a colony. Such 
has been the case in North America and Australasia ; at 
the Cape, also, and in the East and West Indies, as 
far as a British population has extended. At Corfu, how- 
ever (as at Malta and Gibraltar), there is no attempt at 
colonization : not only is there no agricultural settlement, 
but there are no great commercial houses to weave the 

* England, her tributaries and colonies, occupy about one-sixth of 
the inhabited world. Queen Victoria rules over about 100, 000,000 of 
people directly, and at least an equal number of subsidiaries. 



350 



CORFU. 



only inseparable links that unite dissimilar nations. If 
England were to abandon her Mediterranean possessions 
to-morrow, every one of her people would move to the tap 
of the drum, or the boatswain's whistle ; empty barracks 
and dockyards would be the only property she would aban- 
don. The Englishman never amalgamates with a foreign 
people : he can master, and make himself familiar with, 
their sea, their soil, their produce ; but in their cities he 
is still a stranger. The English are as much isolated 
among the Corfuotes at this hour as the French would be 
among the Fezzians ; very few speak Italian, and the 
islanders show equal inaptitude to learn English : even at 
the Government House, notwithstanding the kind manner 

and the tact of Lord S , I thought his Ionian guests 

appeared constrained and uncomfortable : while our coun- 
trymen and women appeared only inclined to cultivate the 
society of each other. 

Nevertheless, this military colony of ours does what it 
considers to be its business right well and manfully : the 
free and independent bearing of the natives, as they walk 
the streets, tell at once of even-handed justice and impar- 
tial rule ; and, from the few intelligent natives with 
whom it was my fortune to converse, I heard no expres- 
sion of complaint against England, except (as at home) 
on some constitutional points which they thought should 
be amended.''' 

Corfu looks eastward, across a narrow strait, upon Al- 
bania. There the Crescent spreads its inevitably disas- 
trous influence : the magnificent mountains are the barren 
strongholds of outlaws or rebels; the luxuriant but neg- 
lected valleys are thinly inhabited by a people contending 
for their very existence against pestilence and oppression. 
A few miles of water divide this stricken land from the 
prosperous and beautiful island of Corfu — the Corcvra so 
fatal to Athenian greatness — the site of the Gardens of 
Alcinous. 

This island might seem all garden, in the Eden accepta- 
tion of the term, for nowhere do earth, ocean, and sky, 
form more rich and varied combinations : the soft and 
sunny valleys, the wild and shadowy glens, the gleaming 
* See Note 5 in Appendix. 



CONCLUSION. 



351 



?lvers, the lofty precipices, the beetling cliffs, and bright 
blue sea, furnish all that Poussin and Salvator Rosa could 
desire, if they wished to form a joint picture to illustrate 
and contrast their style. 

The roads are excellent, but steep; and, winding (with- 
out battlements) round the brow of rocky promontories, or 
through narrow gorges of deep valleys, they diverted the 
attention not a little from tbe scenery to the undisciplined 
team of four white Albanian horses that I drove. 

The town is flanked by the citadel and the strong for- 
tress of Castel Nuovo. The batteries on the little island 
of Vido complete a triangle with those of the two former. 
Tbe citadel is built upon a rock rising so abruptly from 
the sea, that, during the siege, Nelson had formed the 
daring plan of running his ship close in shore, giving her 
a list to port, and boarding the batteries from the top-gal- 
lant yards, which would have just reached to the level of 
the lowest parapet. 

Immense sums of money had been latterly expended on 
these fortifications, which it would take ten thousand men 
to garrison; yet it seems questionable whether the neg- 
lected Cerigo be not the only island of the Republic that 
is valuable to us; being not far from the present Indian 
route, affording the only good anchorage, and a most 
favourable position for a coal depot. 

Albania is in quarantine, so that I was obliged to take 
two officers of the English board of health as guardian os 
during my excursions there. Notwithstanding this 
Hygeian guard, I caught a low fever in the marshes of 
Butrinto, which terminated my wanderings, and leaves 
me nothing farther to record. 

Reader! — you have been my only fellow-traveller 
through many lands; wherever I have wandered you 
have been ; whatever I have learned you have known ; 
yet I scarcely venture to hope that you will share in the 
regret with which I say to you — Farewell! 



HINTS 

TO 

TRAVELLERS IN THE EAST. 



The following observations may be of use to those about to visit 
Egypt and Syria, as the state of affairs in these countries is hourly 
changing, and the latest intelligence is always of some value. 

Most travellers are influenced in the time of their departure from 
England by other motives than those which the almanac supplies ; 
but, though a man may not be able to choose his own time for start- 
ing, he can always select his own route, whereby he may correct the 
inconvenience of unsuitable seasons. 

If you leave England in the spring, you should either go by 
Vienna and Pesth, down the Danube to Constantinople, or by long 
sea to Malta, and thence to Greece. Summer weather is essential 
to the enjoyment of travel in the northern countries : winter is very 
severe, and takes you by surprise. 

If you leave England in the autumn, your best course will be 
to begin with Egypt, whereby you will avoid winter altogether, and 
reach Syria in the spring. The best time for ascending the Nile is 
November or December. By sea, sixteen or eighteen days take you 
to Alexandria. A river steamer takes you thence to Cairo in twenty- 
four hours. A fortnight may be very profitably spent there in ex- 
amining the environs, observing the curious drama of Egyptian life, 
and making use of the excellent library. 

The first-class boats cost from <£16 to ,£35 a month, including 
the pay of the ten to fourteen sailors, who find themselves in every 
article of food, dress, &c. If you take an Arab boat, it is far better 
to engage her by the job, stipulating to be allowed to remain where- 
ever you please at a certain rate per day extra. This course avoids 
much delay and annoyance, caused by the devices of the Arabs to 
prolong the journey when taken by time. 

The different expeditions up the Nile are generally — first, to 
Thebes, which occupies about three weeks in average weather, in- 
eluding your stay at the various places on your route; secondly, to 
the First Cataract, which occupies about five weeks ; and thirdly, 

2 A 



354 



HINTS TO TRAVELLERS 



to the Second Cataract, which requires at least two months' absence 
from Cairo. From all that I have heard and seen, I believe that 
none but the enthusiastic antiquary will find any inducement to 
proceed further than this last place. 

Your comfort during your stay in the East will depend mainly on 
your dragoman. These men offer themselves to you at Malta in 
swarms ; but I am inclined to think that an Egyptian is preferable 
in his own country. It is well to engage your dragoman only on 
the recommendation of some European on whom you can rely. A 
Maltese dragoman charges a dollar a day : an Egyptian half that 
sum. You require two servants, exclusive of the crew ; one to 
cook, the other to attend you on your expeditions. 

On returning to Cairo from the Upper Nile, the route to Syria is 
either through the desert by Suez and Mount Sinai, to Petra and 
Hebron; or, direct to Gozah and Jerusalem, which is shorter by 
three weeks. Our consul, or the Rev. Mr. Leider, is the only person 
to be depended upon for making arrangements with the Bedouin to 
conduct you through the desert. The journey as far as Hebron or 
Jerusalem is performed on dromedaries ; thenceforward on horses. 
Besides the interest of this route, you avoid a fortnight's quarantine, 
which you would have to undergo at Beyrout, in sailing thither from 
an Egyptian port. 

The winter climate of Egypt is perhaps the most delightful in the 
world, and the mode of travelling admirably adapted for invalids. 
Those to whom health is the chief object may sail from Southamp- 
ton on the 3rd of October, and penetrate 1000 miles into Africa by 
the 1st of December, without greater exertion than is necessary to 
step on board a boat. The attention is pleasantly occupied ; all the 
objects of interest are close to the river; and by the 1st of February 
the invalid may find himself on his way to England, having alto- 
gether escaped winter, and found in the course of his 6000 miles' 
travel such repose as is vainly to be sought for in the tranquillest 
Western life. 

If you purpose only to visit Egypt, books are almost the only 
necessary you need take from England. Guns and wire cartridges 
for the various wild fowl ; rifles and iron bullets for wild boars and 
crocodiles will suggest themselves to the sportsman. A camera 
lucida is of great use in taking a view of the complicated details of 
Egyptian architecture in a short time. Powder, books, and sta- 
tionery are the three great essentials for the Egyptian traveller ; they 
are scarcely to be procured after leaving Malta. 

The traveller who proposes to visit Syria should in the first place 
endeavour to procure the Sultan's firman, which will be sent from 
Constantinople to meet him at Cairo, Jerusalem, or Beyrout. An 
English saddle and holsters, spurs and pistols, are indispensable. 
A small strong canteen is the only other English article of much 
importance. I am inclined to think that, with regard to dress, there 
is nothing like the turban of the country, a blouse of coloured camlet 
(not green, which sometimes provokes indignation, as the sacred 



colour of the Moslem), a pair of loose doe-skin pantaloons, and Xa- 
poleon or Hessian boots, of tan leather (black attracts the sun, and 
can't be well cleaned), will make the most convenient and comfort- 
able costume ; a Syrian scarf wrapped round the waist is both com- 
fortable and convenient. In suspicious circumstances, always keep 
your pistols in this belt, and let no Cockney laugh you out of carry- 
ing arms, that is to say, if you visit the interior or live at all adven- 
turously ; they are essential not only to safety, but to dignity. 

The most convenient commissariat consists of maccaroni, rice, and 
preserved meats, which last should be taken from England in small 
packages. They are to be bad, however, at Alexandria and Beyrout. 
Wine, porter, and liqueurs should be bought at Malta ; the latter, 
particularly maraschino, are greatly prized by the Turkish governors, 
&c, and are the most popular present, except gunpowder. This, if 
good, is the most valuable present you can make, either to Oriental 
or to European. 

A small medicine-chest is useful; but for all general purposes, 
some calomel, quinine, ipecacuanha, rhubarb, sticking-plaster, and 
a lancet are sufficient. It would be well to have a measurement of 
the quantities for each dose made by some medical man who has 
visited the East, as the effect of medicine upon the system varies 
considerably with the climate. The principal use of remedies is for 
the people among whom you travel ; temperance and your mode of 
life almost preclude illness, except the fevers of the country, from 
yourseif ; common caution will guard against these, and in most 
cases the severe but delightful action of a Turkish bath will remove 
any unpleasant sensation caused by suppressed perspiration, which 
is the chief, if not the only, danger of the climate. 

The following articles are useful : — Levinge's apparatus for keeping 
off vermin. Saddle, holsters, cloak-straps, spurs. Hammer, gimlets,* 
nails, screws, thermometer, and compass. Fishing-rods, and strong 
tackle for the Nile. Gun, shot, powder-caps, wire cartridges. Sale's 
Koran, Arabic Grammar, Assaad-y Kayat's Vocabulary, and all sorts 
of books. Pencils, paper, all stationery, and lamps. Mackintosh 
beds are a great luxury, and are always clean. Cartridges foi 
pistols, and wooden ramrod fixed in holsters to keep in the charge. 
Porter, potatoes, and Irish salt butter, from England. Sherry, from 
Gibraltar. Wine and liqueurs, maccaroni, and ship-biscuit ; coarse 
check shirts, and duck trowsers, from Malta. 

As to time, a traveller may take his passage to Cadiz, go by dili- 
gence to Seville, ride to Gibraltar, and take up the Egyptian 
steamer ; pass two days at Malta, ascend to the Second Cataract, 
and return to England within four months. 

If he adds Palestine to his tour, it wiil cause an addition of two 
months, via Beyrout or Jaffa; of three, via Mount Sinai and Petra. 
Asia Minor, Constantinople, and Greece, say four months more. 

* These are very useful to screw into the tent-poles, and act as 
hooks, for clothes, accoutrements, &c. 



856 



HINTS TO TRAVELLERS 



If the traveller leaves England in spring, and proceeds via Greece, 
he will have the advantage in point of quarantine. From Greece to 
Constantinople, and thence to Smyrna, Rhodes, Xanthus, and 
Cyprus, he has no interruption. This last place has been made in- 
teresting by Sir C. Fellowes's most important discoveries : it is to 
be visited from Rhodes. The usual period of voyaging may be thus 
averaged : Southampton to Gibraltar, six days ; Gibraltar to Malta, 
six days ; Malta to Alexandria, five days ; Alexandria to Beyrout, 
by sailing-packet, three days; Beyrout to Rhodes, three days; 
Rhodes to Constantinople, five days ; Constantinople to Smyrna, two 
days ; Smyrna to Athens, two days ; thence to Patras, twenty-four 
hours; Patras to Corfu, thirty-six hours; Corfu to Malta, three days. 

With respect to quarantine, it is to be remembered that all Moslem 
countries lie under its restrictions : the only means of avoiding it is 
by taking the Oriental steamers from Malta or Alexandria, when, 
the voyage being allowed, you have seldom more than two or three 
days to wait lor pratique at Portsmouth. If you be^in your tour by 
Egypt, you have a quarantine of twelve days at Beyrout; twelve 
more at Constantinople ; twelve more at Greece. If you begin your 
journey at Greece, you may visit Constantinople, Smyrna, Rhodes, 
and Syria, without performing quarantine ; and if you cross the 
desert from Jerusalem, you have no quarantine in Egypt. You 
should not be in Egypt after April, or in Syria before the end of 
March. In May, the Bosphorus is in its greatest beauty. 

I subjoin the latest arrangements of the Peninsular and Oriental 
Steam Packet Company : — 

The Peninsular and Oriental Steam Navigation Company's 
6teamers start from the Southampton Docks for 

Malta and Alexandria, 20th of every month, at 2 p.m. 

Constantinople, 29th of every month, at 2 p.m. 

N.B. When these dates fall on Sunday, the hour of departure is 

changed. 

These steamers call at Gibraltar, remaining there from f> to 1 2 
hours, and arrive at Malta in about 10 days, stay at Malta 24 hours, 
and arrive at Alexandria in 14 days from Southampton. 
The passage from England to Constantinople is 15 days. 
The rates of passage-money, including a handsome table and wines, 
and all expenses, have been lately reduced, and are — 

To Malta, Alexandria. Constantinople. 

First Class £20 £30 £30 

Servants 10 .... 15 .... 15 

Private cabins can be secured on early application. Liberal 
reductions made for large parties, and for passengers booking out 
and home. 

ALEXANDRIA TO BEYROUT. 
The screw steamer " Novelty " is announced to run with Her 
Majesty's Mails between these places, in lieu of the schooner " Era* 



IN THE EAST. 



357 



metje'e," and presents a very desirable mode of conveyance to pas- 
sengers for Syria. 

Travellers to the East, who are desirous of visiting on the way the 
interesting countries of the Peninsula, have the option of proceeding 
from port to port, say 

Vigo, Oporto, Lisbon, Cadiz, and Gibraltar, 

stopping at each, and re-embarking when convenient without extra- 
charge, joining the Company's Mediterranean steamers at Gibraltar. 

The Company's Peninsular line of steamers leave Southampton 
on the 7th, 17th, and 27th of every month. 



The days of arrival and departure every month (under ordinary 
circumstances) of the Company's steamers at and from the following 
ports, are — 

MEDITERRANEAN LINE STEAMERS. 





Outwards. 


Homewards 
(to England). 


Arrivals. 


Departures. 


Arrivals. 


Departures. 


8 25 
14 31 

19 5 

20 


8 25 
15 1 
21 7 
19 


18 1 
12 26 


18 1 
13 27 
21 7 

19 


Constantinople ... 





PENINSULAR LINE STEAMERS. 



Southampton 
Gibraltar ... 


UTWARDS. 


Homewards 
(to England). 


Arrivals. 


Departures. 


Arrivals. 


Departures. 


10 20 30 

11 12 13 

12 22 1 

14 24 3 

15 25 4 


7 17 27 

10 20 30 

11 21 31 
13 23 2 

15 25 4 

16 26 5 


25 4 14 
21 31 10 
20 30 9 
18 28 7 

17 27 6 


21 31 10 

20 30 9 
19 29 8 
17 27 6 
16 26 5 



358 



HINTS TO TRAVELLERS. 



There is also a means of getting to Egypt in less time, via Mar- 
seilles. French steamers sail from that port on the 4th of every 
month at 5 p.m. They are expected to reach Alexandria in seven 
days; it takes from seven to nine days to reach Marseilles from 
London. For my own part, I very much prefer the long sea voyage ; 
and I think that most people who have experienced the difference 
between English and French steamers also will prefer two or three 
days' additional sailing in the former. 

With respect to money, Messrs. Herries and Farquhar's or 
Coutts's circular notes are best : get them cashed by merchants if 
you can, not by hankers, especially at Malta and Alexandria ; the 
latter will give you 4 or 5 per cent, less than the former. About 
,£'50 a month cover all the expenses that the traveller (once landed 
and outfitted), unless very luxurious, can require in the East ; for 
two or more travelling together, I should think the expense was 
little more than half. 

It is well to make your dragoman your purse-bearer : make him 
strictly accountable to you, but never pay with your own hands. 
Insist On the most profound respect ; preserve your temper and non- 
chalance as your best title to influence and security. Never join in 
a row if you can help it : let your people fight it out : if you must 
act, do so firmly, boldly, and fearlessly of consequences ; there are 
no consequences that can concern a right-minded Frank. It is too 
frequently the habit among our countrymen to dress ludicrously or 
meanly. This is a great mistake, and militates much against the 
wearer : dress is naturally looked upon as a test of the stranger's 
quality, and he cannot be surprised if he is treated accordingly. 

The English traveller should always remember that he has the 
responsibility of being considered by the Orientals as a representa- 
tive of his country ; and that, according to his liberality, courage, 
and temper, impressions are formed of the nation he belongs to, from 
which the East is now expecting great things. The people of the 
West are known to the people of Egypt and Syria only as Frangec, 
or Franks, and Ingeleez, or English ; I think I may venture to say 
that they make a wide difference in favour of the latter^ which it 
behoves every British traveller to maintain. 



APPENDIX. 



Note I, 

ON THE NATURAL HISTORY OF EGYPT— RAILWAYS 
AND CANALS. 

The Valley of the Nile, which constitutes Egypt, was beyond doubt 
once an arm of the Mediterranean, and corresponded to that of the 
Red Sea. In those days, the barrier of granite, which now lies 
strewn in fragments round Assouan, was unbroken ; and, by means 
of such embankment of the river and its inundations, Nubia en- 
joyed that fertility which their disruption transferred to Egypt. 
When the vast volume of water, accumulated above Philoe, poured 
down upon the present Valley of the Nile, it must have carried with 
it debris, and soil, and slime enough to fill up the gulf for many a 
mile. This deposit continued to increase until it drove back the 
sea to the site of the Delta, and, finally, almost within the memory of 
history, to its present shores. The same process has been continued 
ever since with such regularity, that a chronological calculation has 
been made of its deposits at the base of the monuments, which 
harmonises singularly with our received dates. From Assouan, a 
chain of hills continues on either side to Cairo, almost uninterrupedly 
— a distance of about six hundred miles, passing from the granite of 
Syene into an argillaceous sandstone, alternating with carbonate of 
lime, and finally becoming altogether calcareous. Chrysoberl, chal- 
cedony, and jasper, are found among the pebbles of the Upper Nile; 
and iron, sulphur, nitre, and natron, are occasionally met with here ; 
mines of emerald formerly, and now quarries of alabaster also exist 
here. 

The soil of Egypt is Nile slime, of which I subjoin an analysis, 
made by a friend of mine,* who has twice visited the country. 



Silesia 






70 


Alumine 






8 


Lime 






6 


Potash • 






2 


Soda • • 




• 


2 


Magnesia • • 






2 


Sulphate of lime 


• 




I 


Phosphate of lime 




• 


2 


Peroxide of iron . 


• 


• 


5 


. f magnesia 


• 


• 


50 


Water . • 


• 


• 


2 








100 50 



* Dr. Noyes, of Moorgate Street, of whose skill and knowledge of 
the climate I can speak from grateful experience. I should be in- 



860 



NATURAL HISTORY OF EGYPT. 



The Flora has less variety than that of most countries. Very few 
plants are indigenous, and these are mostly of a pale, delicate ap- 
pearance, that weil becomes their home — the desert; but would 
appear to great disadvantage among the well-fed plants of Europe. 

The native trees are the palms, the sycamore (which is called 
" the incorruptible," and of which mummy cases were made) — the 
gum-acacia, the white and black poplar, the cypress, the olive, wil- 
low, myrtle, and tamarisk. The plaintain, oak, and beech, have been 
partially introduced, and the fruit-trees of every climate seem to 
prosper here, with the exception of the pine-apple and cherry, which 
do not thrive. If there be any fruits more especially Egyptian, they 
are the melon, cucumber, and other watery plants, which abound in 
perfection throughout the country. 

The Valley of the Nile has been, in all times, remarkable for its 
produce of wheat, with which, under its Roman tyrants, it was 
obliged to supply the canaille of the imperial city. I am told it is of 
an inferior quality ; but it makes excellent bread, white, light, and 
well-tasted. Like its cultivators, it was always bearded, and looks 
like barley : its increase has been estimated at from fifty to one 
hundred fold ; but now, they say, it rarely produces more than 
twenty or thirty fold, except in very favourable localities. Barley is 
principally cultivated as food for horses ; and, being satisfied with a 
sandy soil, although it requires much moisture, they contrive to get 
ten or twelve fold increase on the seed. 

Dourah, or Indian corn, is very extensively cultivated, as it does 
not require irrigation, though Nature only knows how it fills its 
gigantic stalks with sap in the arid soils over which it waves its 
seas of verdure. Maize, millet, and rice, are also cultivated ; the 
latter is denied antiquity in Egypt, as it does not appear in the monu- 
ments. It was probably brought from India, and is only cultivated 
in the lowlands of the Delta, and latterly in the swamps of Sennaar. 
The sugar-cane thrives well ; but as yet it is not cultivated in suffi- 
cient quantities, or quality, to supply Egypt. Beans, pease, lentils, 
lupines, and onions, and all kitchen herbs and vegetables, grow 
almost wild. 

With respect to the Animal Kingdom, I have already spoken of 
the human species, which appears to be rapidly diminishing under 
the enlightened tyranny of Mehemet AH, having shrunk one-fifth 
within the last ten years. The other animals seem to have fol- 
lowed Egypt, when it went a-pleasuring on the Nile from the in- 
terior ; at least, there are no animals found in Egypt that do not 
also exist in Nubia and Abyssinia. 

The horse appears to advantage in this country, where a good 
practical mixture of races has taken place between those of Dongola 
of Arabia, and even of Europe. The Egyptian horse is taller than 
the generality of Arabians ; his eye full of fire and intelligence ; his 



clined to recommend delicate travellers to have his advice before 
visiting the East, where he has travelled extensively. 



NATURAL HISTORY OF EGYPT. 



361 



head well set on ; his forehand rather straight for our taste, but fine 
at the withers; his quarters are well-turned; his barrel good; his 
legs, clean ; his pasterns, long ; and, altogether, he is the most 
serviceable-looking horse I have seen in the East. He is found on 
all the tombs and sculptures, as well as in the stables. 

The camel is considered an alien, because his antiquity is not 
blazoned on the monuments; but he is mentioned in Genesis. He 
is, whether as dromedary or camel, the most useful animal in the 
East; the former is, in fact, the thoroughbred camel; he is called 
Kudjim in Arabic, from being the pilgrim's (Hadj) bearer. He is 
trained for the saddle, and will travel from nine to twelve miles an 
hour for ten hours together, or for a month at a slower pace. The 
came], in a country where wheel conveyances are unknown, acts the 
double part of a dray and a dray-horse ; he will carry half a ton on 
his back for short distances, or eight hundred weight on a journey. 
Every one has heard of the epithet " ship of the desert," as applied 
to these creatures; but the expression is a paraphrase of the original 
term applied to ships by the Arabs, who cailed them " camels of the 
sea." This appears a most natural figure of speech to those who 
have watched a fleet of these animals towering over the undulations 
of the wide desert. 

The buffalo is also an alien, according to the sculptures and monu- 
mental paintings ; but he is a very useful animal, for all that ; they 
supply the country with water,* and the people with milk. 

Though the buffalo is not found among the monumental paintings, 
the common bull figures there frequently. At Hermonthis, in par- 
ticular, there is the very ideal of this animal, as an English breeder 
would imagine him. 

Sheep and goats abound in Egypt with little variety. Dogs live 
in a state of nature, are generally harmless, and, what is remarkable, 
considering their vast numbers, and the heat of the climate, they 
never go mad. Cats were worshipped by the ancient Egyptians, and 
so esteemed by Mahomet, that his favourite having gone to sleep on 
a corner of his robe, he cut it off when obliged to rise, rather than 
disturb her. This fact or fiction secures her great popularity among 
the Moslems ; and there is even at Cairo, as I have observed, a 
sort of almshouse for decayed cats. 

The wolf, fox, jackall, and hysena, come sometimes under the 
sportsman's aim ; and the wild boar is found in great numbers in the 
Delta. 

The hippopotamus is scarcely ever seen in these days, below the 
Second Cataract, though there is a report of one of the species 
appearing near Damietta, in 1836 ; and there was one seen last year 
near the Wady Haifa. The giraffe is almost as rare, but some- 
times seen in very lonely places : the gazelle is found everywhere on 
the border of the desert, and in the markets of Cairo. 

The ichneumon, or Pharaoh's rat, was adored by the ancient 



* By their exertions in the sakeeyeh 



CANALS. 



Egyptians, on account of its destroying the crocodile in his adult 
state, as they asserted, by jumping down his throat when he yawned, 
and eating its way but from his stomach ; but particularly for its 
propensity for sucking the eggs of this animal. These creatures are 
very numerous, and are often domesticated like cats, to destroy rats 
and mice. Lynxes, foumarts, and jerboas, also abound. 

As to birds — fowls, turkeys, geese, and very few ducks, are found 
in the poultry-yards; wild ducks in clouds, wild geese, pelicans, vul- 
tures, falcons, hawks, eagles, buzzards, and all the night-birds down 
to bats, abound in incredible multitudes. The birds most peculiar 
to English eyes are the ibis and the Nile goose, the latter perhaps 
the most richly-plumaged bird in creation. The real ibis is only to 
be found (if there) at Lake Menzaleh, where it makes its nest among 
the stalks of the only true papyrus that is known here. There is 
something singular in these two surviving specimens of antique 
animal and vegetable races being found limited to the same locality. 
The common ibis is snow-white, and of a very graceful form, resem- 
bling a very well-made stork in miniature. It hovers in flocks over 
the corn-fields, and, contrasted with the rich green, its hue is only 
less beautiful than when seen gliding gracefully and slowly on its 
wide wings among the dark forests of the palm. 

As to insects, imagine everything disgusting, and horrid, and 
monstrous, that can crawl, creep, buzz, bite, or sting ; imagine them 
in every place where they are most nauseous, unwelcome, and you 
will form some idea of the entomology of Egypt. 

Of reptiles, the most respectable is the crocodile; the most 
classical, the cerastes, or horned asp, which baffled Csesar ; of the 
former, I have before spoken ; the latter is avoided even by the 
serpent-charmer, on account of its deadly bite. Other serpents of 
various species abound, and we had several on board our boat ; these, 
having had their fangs torn out, were quite harmless. There are 
iwo species of tortoise, abundance of scorpions, bull-frogs, whose 
nightly croakings amount to bellowing ; and, lastly, the only appa- 
rently useful reptile that is known, the monitor lizard, which utters 
shrill cries whenever a crocodile approaches. 

As to fish, I caught some hundreds, and never caught two of the 
same species. Their names in Arabic would tend little to enlighten 
the most scientific reader, and of their habits I am ignorant. I 
am told that salmon of immense size and delicate flavour are taken 
in the Nile, and that perch abound ; but I never saw fish that could 
be identified in English. 

Canals are the very life of agricultural Egypt, and require all the 
power and vigilance of the government to keep them in repair. It 
is evident that, among this indolent, narrow-minded people, who 
never look to second causes, that the inhabitant at the entrance of 
a canal would never keep it in order for the sake of those at a dis- 
tance, so that government is obliged to take their management en- 
tirely into its own hands. 

The principal canal in Egypt is called after Joseph, though by 



CANALS. 



363 



most treoojrapliers supposed to be the work of the Nile itself. It 
commences near Mellawi, and runs through the Said to the Fayoum, 
where it exhausts itself into many branches. 

The next canal in importance is that of Moeys, which extends 
from near Cairo to Lake Menzaleh, a distance of 120 miles, and is 
navigable all the way. The Mahmoudieh canal has already been 
described ; besides which, there are half-a-dozen others, very im- 
portant, no doubt, to the Egyptians, but little interesting to the 
general reader. 

The effect of these canals is immensely increased by banks, or 
dams, that regulate the supply of water into the lower districts, as 
well as by large reservoirs, that retain the waters of the inundation, 
and economize its outlay. 

The works of this nature, carried into effect by Mehemet Ali, 
are incredible ; they extend over a srace of 104,356.667 cubit metres. 
M. Linant, the Pasha's abie and indefatigable chief engineer, has 
proposed a plan for embankments to cross the Nile, near the junction 
of the Damietta and Rosetta branches, which would produce amazing 
results, not only for the Delta, but for the lands on either side the 
river as far as Cairo. Its importance may be estimated by the cal- 
culation that it would save the employment of 25,000 sakeeyehs, 
involving the labour of 25,000 men and 50,000 oxen.* These canals 
are exclusively interesting to Ei'vpt. I now turn to those that 
interest the whole commercial and travelling world. 

The formation of a canal from Suez to the Mediterranean is first 
in importance. It would shorten the passage to India from the 
Levant, by 8,000 miles; that from London by 5,500 miles; that 
from New York by 3,000, to say nothing of 

" Many a day and many a dreadful night 
Incessant labouring round the stormy Cape." 

Sesostris attempted to unite the Red Sea with the Nile; and 
Nechos, says Herodotus, attempted to carry out his views with the 
cost of 100,000 lives in the enterprise. Fortunately for the popula- 
tion of Egypt, an oracle forbade him to advance the undertaking, 
saying that it would "open Egypt to the invasion of strangers." 
Probably the same oracle, issuing from his own profound brain*, may 
have operated on the mind of Mehemet Ali, who certainly has 
hitherto not displayed his usual energies in emulating the useful 
labours of his predecessors. 

It would seem that this canal was at length completed, and not 
only conveyed shipping from the Nile to the Arabian Gulf, but, by 
irrigation, converted the desert into fruitful fields, on which rose (and 
fell), with its fructifying waters, the cities of Heroopolis, Phlagrio- 



* Any person curious in these matters may consult " Histoire 
sommaire de PEgypte sous Mehemet Ali," par M. Mengin; the 
"Semaphore d' 'Orient and Oot Bey's inestimable " Apergu 
general sur VEgypteS* 



S84 



AGRICULTURE OF EGYPT. 



polis, and Serapeum, near Arsinoe. Trajan and Amru re-opened 
this canal at intervals of about 500 years ; but now it has vanished, 
except a small portion reaching into Cairo, called the Kalish. If 
this canal once existed, there is no reason that another, infinitely 
more important, might not be created and maintained across the same 
deserts. 

The level of the Red Sea is thirty feet higher than that of the 
Mediterranean, and fifteen feet higher than the lowest period of the 
Nile at Cairo, but five feet lower than the Nile at its highest period. 
By means of the latter fact, turned to good account, the desert could 
be irrigated by fresh water during the very season in which that 
process is necessary. A railway from Cairo to Suez is more popular, 
and perhaps more feasible. It is asserted that the cost would little 
exceed that incurred for rails and sleepers ; as the level is already 
obtained by the banks that have been erected, and also those of the 
ancient canal. 

The desert, between Keneh and Cosseir, affords the shortest 
interval between the Nile and the Red Sea ; it is only seventy miles 
in length, and offers but slight undulations of ground. Should the 
atmospheric railways come into use here, they would obviate every 
difficulty of level, and the houses of the stationary engines might con- 
stitute a useful chain of forts, whose guns could command the whole 
range of the journey. The water is deep, and the anchorage good, 
moreover, at Cosseir ; and the most difficult and dangerous part of 
the navigation of the Red Sea would be thus avoided, and exchanged 
for the safe and tranquil navigation of the Nile. 



Note II. 

AGRICULTURE, MANUFACTORIES, COMMERCE, ETC. 
OF EGYPT. 

The Egyptian considers himself as fortunate indeed if allowed to 
devote his industry to the light labours that the land requires. He 
turns up the easy soil with a wooden plough of the simplest construc- 
tion, unaltered in its pattern from those we find upon the tombs of 
three thousand years ago : when the seed is sown, a trunk of a palm- 
tree, drawn by two oxen, serves all the purposes of harrowing and 
rolling. When the corn is cut, the sheafs are collected in a heap on 
some hard spot of ground, and then strewn in a circle, over which 
buffaloes draw a light sledge, and thus thresh out the grain. 

The inundation of the Nile affords a universal, and the only 
manuring of the lands of Egypt. When the waters retire about 
the month of November, the seed is sown, and harvest appears in 
March. Thus, new wheat and barley can be offered in the English 
markets in the first week of April. 

Until 1821, the cotton plant was only found as an ornament in 
seme gardens of Cairo. It is now, after wheat, the most important. 



MANUFACTURES OP EGYPT. 



365 



production of the valley of the Nile. Its culture, adopted by the 
Pasha at the recommendation of M. Jamel, a Frenchman, succeeded 
beyond expectation. It is planted in March, and gathered in Novem- 
ber or December : it requires a good soil, and renewal of seed every 
third year. Indigo is also a recent introduction, and produces con- 
siderable revenue to the Pasha, particularly that which is grown 
in Nubia. Rice is kept in water, and afterwards under damp straw, 
until it begins to germinate; then planted in moisr land. It is sown 
in November, and threshed at the same time, and in the same pri- 
mitive manner as the wheat. The more fruitful soil in Egypt pro- 
duces three crops in the year; once by inundation, and two by 
irrigation. The last I have already described as very severe labour, 
and employing 150,000 men, with 50,000 oxen, at the shadoofs and 
water-wheels. 

The Pasha has established a number of factories, in which cotton, 
linen, woollen, silk, and other stuffs, are produced, besides iron foun- 
dries, and manufactories of arms. There are fifteen cotton fac- 
tories, containing 1459 spinning-jennies. That called " Malta," at 
Boulac, is well worth a visit, and, to a superficial observer, appears 
as well conducted as any in England. The wool employed in the 
cloth factories is native, except a small quantity imported from 
Tunis. 

The manufactures of Egypt are altogether monopolized by the 
Pasha, and only maintain their existence by his fiat. Notwithstand- 
ing the low prices of the raw material, and the small expense of 
human labour, this extensive speculator can be undersold by Euro- 
peans in every branch of his various manufactures. Besides this, 
the articles are all inferior in quality to those of Europe. The climate 
appears to take part with the inhabitants against manufactures ; the 
heat of the weather is injurious to the material, and the fine sand 
that pervades every breeze of wind is very destructive to the 
machinery. Moreover, the cultivable soil of Egypt, which the most 
inveterate political economist will allow should first be attended to, 
requires more labourers than the present population can afford ; and 
thus the country suffers as much from Mehemet Ali's passion for 
manufactures as from war. 

All these considerations, together with Ibrahim Pasha's preference 
for agriculture, only give to the factories a life-lease in Egypt; and 
before many years pass away, we shall probably see a new and 
extensive market opened to England, by the return of the unwilling 
mechanics to the agricultural labours from which they have been 
torn by their tyrant. I have not been able to learn the number of 
persons engaged in manufactures in Egypt, but it must be very con- 
siderable, owing to the number and variety of the latter : while their 
novelty makes them felt as a still severer hardship by the poor men 
and children who are doomed to the tending of them. 

Alexandria must, probably, sooner or later, become the most 
important commercial port in the world ; not only from its central 
situation, its admirable harbour, and its being the point of con- 



368 



COMMERCE OF EGYPT. 



fiuerice of three quarters of the globe, but as the port of all India 
and southern Asia, whose resources are only now beginning to be 
developed : to these wide regions China has now been added by 
England's rapid and momentous victories over barbarian power and 
prejudice. Until lately, India was four or five months distant from 
En a land. Steam has now caused oceans to shrink into mere chan- 
nels, and these channels are bridged over by oar steamers From 
London to Alexandria is England, from Suez to Causan is England 
still, and Egypt presents a mere bank of eighty or ninety rni.es in 
breadth. This will soon be spanned by a railway which English iron 
must supply, and which English steel must guard. 

The present commerce of Egypt consists principally of wheat, cot- 
ton, rice, indigo, and opium, as exports : of cloth and linen, timber 
for building, iron, cutlery, paper, glass, oil, and wine, as impoias. 
The value of the importations in 1842, was about * 2,679.000, that 
of the exports about ,£2,190,000; of these the imports from Eng- 
land amounted to about *o'00.G40 ; while her exports thither only 
reached about £216.000. The exports and imports of Turkey 
nearly balance each other, as do those of Austria.* 

The whole annual commerce of Egypt, by way of the Red Sea, 
and caravans, is valued at about £400,000. Every year a caravan 
comes from Abyssinia with a number of black slaves, gold-dost, 
gum, ivory, ostrich leathers, 6cc. ; another caravan from 31orocco, 
with pilgrims for Mecca, comes through Algiers. Tripoli, and Tunis, 
across the desert, to Alexandria. There are also caravans arriving 
occasionally from Damascus, with silks, dried fruit, and od. In 
1822, there were only sixteen mercantile houses in Alexandria, there 
are now forty-four : of these thirteen are French, nine are Austrian, 
and only seven are English. There is a tribunal of Commerce 
established by the Pasha, by which ail mercantile disputes and 
differences are heard and adj aiged. 

In 1814, suddenly appeared that astonishing decree, by which 
the Pasha announced to the inhabitants of Egypt that the whole 
country belonged to him. and that all the dwellers therein were but 
labourers on his great farm, or at best but tenants at his will. 
IMeheniet Aii made a pretext to visit Arabia, wane this decree was 
being carried into effect by his minister. The men bowed tamely to 
his decree, but the women rose tumultuously, and excited some lead- 
ing sheikhs to make a demonstration of resistance. One of the latter 
was arrested and executed on some pretence foreign to the occasion; 
the women were allowed to talk out their indignation, and Egypt has 
been ever since the unquestioned private property of tire Pasha. 
Soon afterwards, he appropriated ah the revenues belonging to pious 
institutions, and took them under his own protection. This last 
measure created more dissatisfaction than the former one, as it 



* A merchant at Alexandria told me lie could ship wheat at Alexan- 
dria, at 12s. per quarter, and beans at the same price, yet that neither 
paid in the English market, except under peculiar circumstances. 



THE MOUNTAIN TRIBES. 



c67 



rendered many desperate. Previous to this .appropriation, 6000 
persons received daily alms from the mosque of El Azhar alone, 
and 2000 slept within its walls. 

It is true that Mehemet Ali had a precedent for thus taking pos- 
session of all the land in Egyyt in the case of Joseph's Pharaoh, 
Osirtesen the First, in the year 1706 B.C. ; but, in the latter case, 
the Egyptians received a consideration for the loss of their posses- 
sions, and Pharaoh only virtually possessed himself of quit-rents, 
amounting to one-fifth of the value of the agricultural produce. From 
Meheinet Ali the Egyptians received nothing in lieu of their posses- 
sions, except a somewhat better administration of public affairs and 
some better irrigation for the lands. In return for this, the Pasha 
claims four-fifths of the produce of the land* 



Note III. 
THE MOUNTAIN TRIBES. 

The people of the Lebanon have been in all times most rebellious 
to foreign powers, most loyal to their own. 

Divided and dismembered as they are, there is the material 
of a great nation among these various tribes : they require only peace 
and union to make them powerful — only power to make them free. 
Want of union, the sundering of the fabled faggot, is their chief 
cause of weakness ; to concentrate the energies and unite the in- 
terests of the several tribes, would require a powerful and enlight- 
ened intellect, and such has never appeared among them. Two of 
their Emirs,* Fakreddin, and the Emir Beschir, wanted but honesty 
and singleness of purpose to enable them to convert the populace of 
a thous md villages into a people; the former ruled from Tripoli to 
Mount Carmel, the latter was the sovereign, or at least the univer- 
sally acknowledged source of rank and power all over the Lebanon. 

Fakreddin, however, went to Europe to seek for assistance against 
his Turkish oppressors ; he took advantage of a theory that had just 
then become popular, that the romantic history of the Druses had 
begun with the Count de Dreux, at the time of the Crusades. This 
claim on Christian sympathy, together with the rank, eloquence, 
and majestic appearance of the claimant, procured him immediate 
popularity in Italy, but the Chitftain of the Mountains soon sank 
into the voluptuary, and forgot the cause he had come to plead in 
Capuan luxury. When, at length, he did return to the mountain, 
all his energies and resources were dissipated in selfish schemes 
of policy, and building fantastic palaces. His family, all of whom 
were Druses, became extinct about one hundred and fifty years airo. 

On the death of the last of his line, the aristocracy of the moun- 
tain elected an Emir of Hasbeia as chief governor, and this dignity, 

* Pronounced "Ameer." 



£68 



THE MOUNTAIN TRIBES. 



under the title of "Hakeem el Djebal," has since lineally descended 
in the Shehab family from father to son. This illustrious family 
came originally from Shabha, in the Haouran ; and are lineally 
descended from the Standard-bearer of the Prophet Mahomet. I 
could not learn from any of the Emirs the date of their arrival in 
Syria; they spoke of it vaguely as "several hundred years ago." 
It would seem that they came as conquerors, since they obtained 
large possessions with feudal privileges in the country about Mount 
Hermon, and the sources of the Jordan. Their chief castles are 
named Hasbeya and Rascheia, both of which I have described. 

The Emir Beschir is now the first man among the tribes, nomi- 
nally, though a prisoner ; to him belong the beautiful palace of Be- 
teddeen, and the sovereignty of the Lebanon. He was able, it is 
said, to summon 15,000 armed men to his standard at three hours' 
notice. 

When the Egyptian forces invaded Syria in the late war between 
Mehemet Ali and the Porte, the Emir remained neutral for some 
time, neglecting the orders of the Sultan to attack Ishmael Pasha, 
and at the same time abstaining from any communication with the 
latter until he had possessed himself of Acre, and his cause appeared 
to be triumphant. Then, in an evil hour, he invited him to his palace, 
and professed himself his faithful ally. 

Ishmael accepted the invitation, and so arranged his plans, that 
on the evening of his arrival at Beteddeen, 15,000 Egpytian troops 
encamped on the hills around. The Pasha then explained to the 
Emir that he wished the mountaineers to give up their arms, and the 
poor Chieftains were obliged to comply. The Egyptian had already 
obtained by spies and bribery a return of all the arms on the Leba- 
non ; and his troops, surrounding each village, now required the 
complement assigned, whether truly or otherwise. The Maronite 
priests, I know not why, exhorted their people to comply : the Druses 
resisted. This has already changed the character of these sects; 
the disarmed Maronites have become timid and unwarlike, the 
Druses proportionably bolder, and more free. 

The Egyptians remained long enough in Syria to make a most 
favourable reform, and from this fact may be estimated the state to 
which the Turks had reduced it. The name of Mehemet Ali became 
a terror to the Bedouin in his desert, and to the Druse upon the 
mountain. Commerce returned to the seaports, security was be- 
stowed on the public ways, mines were worked, crushing imposts 
abated. I am no panegyrist of Mehemet Ali, but I think it only 
just to his character to mention these circumstances, which are 
universally admitted in the East. 

It was only this forced disarmament of the mountain tribes, and 
the dreaded conscription, that turned Syria against his cause, and 
enabled the languid and unwholesome sway of the Porte once more 
to establish itself in this country. When England dispossessed 
Mehemet Ali of Syria, in order to restore it to the Turks, the aged 
Emir Beschir was brought to account ior his unprofitable intimacy 



THE MOUNTAIN TRIBES. 



369 



with the Egyptians. He and his three sons were inveigled to Con- 
stantinople, where they have ever since remained under strict sur- 
veillance, with the exception of the youngest, who was permitted to 
reside in poverty at Beteddeen. 

The chief authority is now possessed by the Emir Sadadin of 
Hasbeia ; the Emir Afendy of Rascheia is next in consideration. 
These families are both Moslem, though the Emir Beschir and his 
ancestry w T ere Christian, which they became, in order to conciliate 
the then powerful sect of the Maronites. This people derive their 
origin from Maron, a saint of the fifth century; persecuted as 
heretics by the Greek empire, they have long survived their op- 
pressors, and preserved their own peculiar faith with little alteration 
up to this hour. It is true, they have occasionally acknowledged 
obedience to the See of Rome 5 but the Legate is subordinate in 
power to the Patriarch, and their priests marry and celebrate mass 
in the Syriac instead of Latin . The Pope entered into this compro- 
mise with them, they refusing to learn Latin, but deferring so far to 
the Roman pleasure as to consent to use the old Syriac language in 
their masses, as equally unintelligible to their hearers as the Latin. 
The Patriarch bears himself as despotically in his monastery of 
Canobin, near Tripoli, as if he still held his ancient rule at Antioch. 
Nine bishops and one hundred and fifty priests minister to about 
150,000 souls. They have numerous monasteries, mid are exceed- 
ingly ignorant and poor, but very tolerant. The chief Maronite 
districts are the Kesrouan, Djebail, and Katch Bukfaijet. 

The Metoualis, or Moslem sectaries w r ho follow Ali in preference 
to Osmar, are the wildest and least civilized, but also the fewest in 
number of the tribes. They do not amount to more than 20,000, and 
inhabit Akaleem, Sidon, Baalbec, and the mountains near Djebail. 

The Druses are the most characteristic people, and their worship 
is wrapped in mystery. To them, the form of religion they out- 
wardly profess appears a matter of indifference. If thrown among 
Moslems, they follow their usages; if among Christians, tliey adopt 
theirs. The founder of their faith was a lunatic Caliph of Cairo, 
called the " Hakeem," who announced himself as the long-promised 
Messiah of all faiths. He, they say, was taken up into heaven; but 
his faithful follower, Hamza, was graciously left on earth to en- 
lighten it with his doctrines. Banished from Egypt, he found a 
refuge among- the mountains of Lebanon, where his creed spread 
rapidly. On his death, Moktana, his disciple, carried on the Pro- 
phet business, and reduced it into order. He announced seven 
commandments, inculcating Veracity, Charity, Renunciation of Ma- 
homet, Submission to God's Will, Confession, Fidelity to their 
Faith, and acknowledgment that all other religions are mere types, 
more or less perfect, of this, the perfect one. 

They were divided into two great classes and many sects; the 
former consisted of the "Initiated" and the "Novices;"* the 



Called the Fawil, or "interior;" and the Teizit, or "external. 4 



3 70 



TTIE MOUNTAIN TRIBES. 



latter, amongst others, were divided into "Nosairi" and (( Quadri- 
mousi." The Nosairi, or Ansairies, performed daily the most 
obscene worship ; the Yeseedies are supposed to adore a golden calf, 
as the Persians do Ahriman, the Origin of the Evil; this calf 
symbolizes Eblis, the spirit at issue with that of the Hakeem.* The 
principal Druse districts in the Lebanon are called "Thoof," 
"Arkoob," "Shebha," "Garb," and "Mattu." They are also 
found in the Haouran, Antilebanon, and Jebel el Alah, near Aleppo. 
Their whole number may amount to 120,000. 

However differing in creed, these various tribes are all under the 
same form of government; a sort of feudal aristocracy, consisting of 
Emirs, Mokaddems, and Sheikhs. These are each independent in 
his own district. The chief Emir, or "Hakeem el Wapt," bestows 
all rank, and entitles a man and all his descendents to be Sheikhs, or 
even Emirs, by calling him brother. All the Emirs, whether 
Druse, Metouali, or Maronite, acknowledged the Emir Beschir as 
supreme, and kissed his hands. In case, however, of making war, 
the Emir cannot summon the dependents of the inferior Emirs to 
accompany him to battle; but must apply to the respective Sheikhs, 
or Mokaddems, who seldom refuse to furnish their contingent. 

After the Shehab family come the Bet Belama., whose ancestor was 
only a Mokaddem ; but, having acquired a great reputation, he called 
himself Emir, and was confirmed in that title by the Chief of the 
Emirs. Next is the Resstan family, who are all Druses. 

The Chief Emir alone had the power of life and death, which is 
now monopolized by the Porte: the inferior Princes and Sheikhs 
frequently, however, take the law into their own hands, and few 
Druses would be found base enough to appeal from them to a 
Turkish Pasha, even to save his life. 

The Emirs are subordinate at present to the Pasha of Damascus, 
who nominally has the power (which he dare not test) to remove 
them. 

The Metoualis, and the few orthodox Moslems in the Lebanon, 
are devoid of conviction of the divine right of the Sultan, and have 
no religious scruple in carrying arms against the u Vicegerent of the 
Prophet." 

All the chiefs possess property and tenants : but there are many 
independent freeholders who, together with the tenants, pay all the 
taxes; the nobility and clergy being exempt. I have spoken of the 
industry of the people in a former chapter; I must also observe upon 
their fine, martial bearing, their freedom from many of the vices of 
the Plains, their tolerance, intelligence, and hospitality. 

Some years ago, the Druses sent a deputation to our Consul- 
General, offering to place themselves under the protection of Great 
Britain, to receive and build houses for our missionaries, and to send 
;:ll their children to the Christian schools. The proposition was 
coldly received by Lord Ponsonby, treated with indifference by Lord 



* And the same that the Israelites worshipped in the wilderness. 



ON THE CRESCENT AND CROSS AS SYMBOLS. 



371 



Melbourne, and the chiefs returned to their mountains, affronted and 
disheartened. 

The people of the Lebanon seem to have no idea of union, or any 
thoughts of Syria as a whole : their patriotism seems coufined to each 
village or district. 

I regretted very much not being able to devote more time to the 
examination of this most magnificent country, and its interesting 
people. I would beg to direct the attention of travellers to the fol- 
lowing subjects : 

1. To geographers, the Lebanon is almost a " terra incognita;' 1 
every information as to distances and elevations is of great import- 
ance. The source of the river Liettani is unknown, yet must be 
somewhere in the plain of Baalbec, or on the hills towards the 
Cedars. 

2. There are two MS. histories of the Shehab families existing, 
which would throw light upon the obscure history of this people. 
The Emirs Sadadeen and Afendy told me they knew of these books, 
but did not know in whose possession they now were. 

3. There are two printing-presses on the Mountain; one at Kis- 
beia, near Eden; the others at Mar Hanna el Shiveir, one day's 
journey from Bey rout. No copy from the former has ever reached 
Europe. 

4. There are some curious ruins of a Greek temple between Baal- 
bec and Zahle ; and the ruins of a Roman city are to be found near 
Fakra, on the western declivity of Djebel Sunnin. Neither of these 
have ever been explored, that I am aware of, by any person able to 
^orm an opinion as to their merits. 

The traveller will also find a visit to Antoura and the Natural 
bridge repay his labour well. They are only one easy day's journey 
from Beyrout. 

These are all points on which I was unable to satisfy myself, 
owing to my limited time.* 



Note IV. 

ON THE CRESCENT AND THE CROSS AS SYMBOLS. 
(Page 323.) 

Le Pere Lafitau, in his "Manners of the American Savages," 
shows, from various authorities, that the Cross was received as an 
object of worship amongst them before the discovery of that Conti- 
nent by the Europeans, and was considered a religious symbol by the 



* I am indebted for the principal part of this information to the 
Rev. Dr. Kerns (missionary at Aleppo), M. Schultze, H.P. M.'s 
Consul at Jerusalem, Colonel Churchill, and Assaad Yacoob y Kayat. 



2 B 2 



372 



GOVERNMENT OF CORFU. 



ancient world. It is seen in the bands of Horns Apollo, on the 
necks of the god Apis, of Jupiter Amnion, in the Thyrsis of Bacchus, 
on the bosom of. vestal virgins, and on the sacred vases in which 
libations were offered to the gods; and its traces may be found in the 
oldest words of Phoenician and Chinese History. 

The student may also consult Lipsius de Cruce, lib. i. cap. 8 ; 
Gretser de Cruce, lib. i. cap. 51 ; Pignotius in expos, mensce Isiacce ; 
Kircher in JEdipo. ; and Obelise. Pamphil. 

The Cre>cent was the symbol of the city of Byzantium, and 
was adopted by the Turks. This device is of very ancient origin, as 
appears from several medals, and took its rise from an event thus 
related by a native of Byzantium. c Philip, the father of Alexander 
the Great, meeting with great difficulties in carrying on the siege of 
this city, set the workmen one dark night to undermine the walls. 
Luckily for the besieged, a young moon suddenly appearing, dis- 
covered the design, which accordingly miscarried; in acknowledg- 
ment whereof the Byzantines erected a statue to Diana, and the 
Crescent became the symbol of their state.' — A. P. 



Note V. 
GOVERNMENT OF CORFU. 
'Page 350.) 

When England accepted the protectorate of the Ionian Republic, 
assigned to her in 1815, she undertook to grant or to continue to 
them a free constitution. This consists of a House of Assembly, 
containing forty members, returned by the Seven Islands in a pro- 
portion relative to their population. From this House of Assembly, 
a senate, or council, composed of six members, is selected by the 
Lord High Commissioner. These are, in fact, the ministry of the 
Republic, each presiding over a particular department, and receiving 
a salary of £800 per annum, while the President of the Council has 
an income of £T300. As the members of this council (whatever 
island they may belong to) are obliged constantly to reside at Corfu 
during their administration, this allowance is necessary to induce 
them to accept office. The House of Assembly only sits for three 
months in every second year; the power of convening or proroguing 
is vested in the Lord High Commissioner; that of dissolution, in the 
Crown alone. 

This appears a sufficiently free form of government; and the only 
complaints I heard against it were, that the system of representation 
was corrupt; that there was no freedom of the press; and that Corfu 
was taxed to pay England. 

With respect to the former, a list of the persons whom the Lord 
High Commissioner deems eligible for representatives is sent to each 



GOVERNMENT OF CORFU. 



373 



island previous to an election: the electors may choose from out that 
list alone; if they don't like A. they must have B. To this objec- 
tion I heard it replied that the islands, if left to their own selection, 
would return none but deputies of the Anti-English party, which 
would involve the government in perpetual difficulty. 

With respect to the Freedom of the Press, however invaluable 
that liberty may be in a great country, it appears to be productive of 
very indifferent results in a small community, where its spirit must 
be mainly fed upon personalities and imaginary grievances, as is the 
case at Malta. 

The third ground of complaint is the tax of £36,000 per annum 
claimed by England for purposes said to be unconnected with the 
interests of the island. It is true that this sum was formerly levied 
and applied to the repair of the existing fortifications and the crea- 
tion of new; but it has not been levied for the last five years, and 
probably never will again. Moreover, the expenditure of English 
money in the island amounted to at least five times the amount of 
this tax. 

I mention these accusations against the English government as 
proving how little reason exists for complaint. The benefits con- 
ferred upon the Republic, and upon Corfu especially, by English 
rule, are not so easily enumerated. Sir Thomas Maitland (familiarly 
known in the island as "King Tom") first reduced the island to 
order and security ; roads were made in every direction ; lazarettos 
built; schools established; the town and fortifications repaired; 
commerce encouraged; and a native police created. 

The island appeared, to my superficial observation, to be pros- 
perous and thriving, with full employment for its people, and a fair 
rate of remuneration for labour. We may proudly contrast its pre- 
sent state with that which it exhibited under the tyranny of the 
Venetian "proveditori," the Russian "commandants," and — worse 
than all — of its own factious native authorities. 



INDEX. 



Abbas Pasha, 43, 186. 

Abbott, Dr., founder of a literary in- 
stitution at Cairo, 164; his museum, 
165. 

Abdallah, father of Mahomet, 59; ser- 
vant, passi m. 

Abdel Kader, 10; Maugrabee, 69; 
Wahanij 177. 

Abou Zeb, 111. 

Abou Hahib, 32. 

Aboukir, battles at, 23, 176. 

Abousir, expedition to, 125. 

Abou-Svmbal, 131. 

Abubeker, 60, 62. 

Abyssinia, 65 — 97; hope of reaching 
it disappointed, 97 ; countries bor- 
dering on, 98 ; Christianity pre- 
served in it, 100; war in, 101; 
debate as to proceeding there, 125. 

Acherusia, lake of, 76. 

Acre, 1S7, 210, 245; bombardment 
of, 212; Napoleon before it, 213; 
interest of, 214. 

Acropolis of Athens, 336,339. 

Adam, 50. 

Adrian, the emperor, loo. 
Adriatic, 347. 
.Egina, 347, 335. 

/Ethiopia, 95; description of, 98; its 

ancient history, 99; war in, 179. 
African Church, 64. 
Agostoli, 349. 

Alexander, founder of ancient Alex- 

dria, 17, 173. 
Alexandria, 16; its aspect, 17 ; its 

decay, 26; church of, 65; revisited, 

172; population of, 174. 
Algesiras, 8. 

Algiers, first view of, 10; French 

occupation of, 11. 
Ali Pasha, 43. 

Allah, 32, 38, 128,129, 130. 
Airae, description of, 146; their Ori- 
ental ballet, 147. 



Ammada, temple of, 136. 
Amnion, temple of, 148, 154. 
Amunoph, 155. 
Ananook, 2S6. 

Angels, Gabriel, 55, note; 61 ; Azraei 

and Israfil, 55, note. 
Antar, songs of, 130. 
Anti-Lebanon, 295. 
Appurtenances of Oriental traveller, 
I 188. 

Arab feast, 89; song, ICS; his his- 
tory, 273; romance of life, 274; 
source of wealth, 275; phvsician, 
303. 

Arabian hills, 7S ; mode of march, 82 

Areopagus, hill of, 342. 

Argolis, 335. 

Argos, kingdom of, 155. 

Armenian, priests, 304 ; graves of, 329. 

Army, Egyptian, formation of, 179; 
Ibrahim Pasha's, 180= 

Arnaouts, regiment at Esneh, 143; 
ferocity of, 144; picturesque ap- 
pearance of, 145. 

Assouan, situation of, 95; arrival at, 
96; prophecy concerning, 96; ob- 
jects of interest near, 96 ; return 
to, 141. 

Astaboras, 20, 98. 

Atl'eh, arrival at, 27. 

Athens, approach to, 336; remains of, 
339; view from, 340; people of, 
341. 

Athor, 132. 

Atlas, mount, 11. 

Athlit, 222. 

Baalbec, vale of, 209, note; visit to, 
308 ; tradition concerning, 309, 310; 
description of, ib. 

Babvlon, king of, 46. 

Bacheet, excellent pilot, 92, 142, 101. 

Bagdad, 181. 

Banshee, 33 



376 



ind: 



Barabra, language of Nubians, 115. 

Barbarv, coast of, 8; its beautv, ib. 

Bath, Turkish, 290. 300. 

Battle of the Nile, 22. 

Bedouin, 27; at the Pyramids, 167; 

warrior, 138; troops of, 211; escort 

of, 285; habits, 272; character, 

273, 274, 275. 
Beit el Wellee, temple of, 139. 
Bellini, 160. 
Belus, 217. 
BeJzoni, 50, 127, 149. 
Bema, 340, 341. 
Beteddeen, palace of, 287. 
Bethlehem, imposing appearance of, 

254 ; objects of interest at, 255, 257. 
Beyrout, medical relief mission at, 67, 

note; arrival at, 191; situation, 

196, 200; beauty of, 196. 
Bevs, Mameluke, 34, 176. 
Birbe, 107. 
Biscay, bay of, 7. 

Bishop of Jerusalem, 255 ; notice of 
his death, 260. 

Bivouac on the Damour, 202; en 
route to Tyre, 209; Eastern, 214, 
216; Jericho, 269; Lebanon, 315. 

Blue River, 102, 121. 

Boats on the Nile, 81, 119 

Book, people of the, 59. 

Bosphorus, 323, 325. 

Botzaris, Marco, 347, 348 ; his daugh- 
ter, 345. 

Boulac, port of Cairo, 29, 172 

Bourlos, lake of, 22. 

Bruce 's tomb, 150. 

Brueys on the Nile, 23. 

Buonaparte in Egypt, 23, 26. 

Burckhardt, 127, 133. 

Buyukdere, 326, 327. 

Byron, 347. 

Caaba, temple of, 59 ; guardians of, ib. 

Cadijah, 46, 59. 

Ceesarea Philippi, 219, 222. 

Caffarelli, 15. 

Caiffa, 221,223. 

Cairo, view from citadel of, 19; situa- 
tion described, 29; approach, 28; 
its streets, 31; bazaars, 31, 32; 
buildings, 33; population, 50; mis- 
sionary schools, 67 ; return to, 161 ; 
residence there, 1 62 ; deceitful as- 
pect, 16 4. 

Calypso's Isle, 11, 12. 

Cambyseo, 76, 155. 



Canopic, 25. 

Caravan, 171,251, 266,201. 

Caravanserai, 202, note. 

Carmel, 214, et seqq. ; monks of, 218; 

legend, 220. 
Carnak, 93, 153, 156. 
Catacombs of Stabl d'Antar, 83, 84. 
Cataracts, 103; rapids of, 105, 106; 

ascent of, 110; descent, 127, 140. 
Cedars of Lebanon, 312. 
Central Africa, 97. 
Cephalonia, 348. 
Cephisus, 340, 342. 
Chameleons, 142, note. 
Cheops, pyramid of, 77 
Chicken-hatching, 37. 
Christendom, 63. 
Christianity. 63, 64. 
Church, African, 64 ; Alexandrian, 65; 

at Jerusalem, 249 ; Damascus, 303. 
Cithaeron, 347. 

Citta Vecchia, 13; its catacombs, 14. 
Clementi, Fra', 21S, et seq. 
Cleopatra, 17, 35, 148. 
Clot Bev, his collection of antiquities, 
165. " 

Coenobites of the Nile, S5. 
Colour of the Egyptians, 50. 
Comino Island, 13, note. 
Cemeteries in Nubia, 149. 
Cerigo, 351. 

Concubines of the Knights of Rhodes , 
15. 

Constantinople, 32S, et seq. ; hotels at, 
330. 

Contrabandists, 9. 

Copts, 54; descent 64; dress, 65; 
church, 65; language and charac- 
ter, 66. 

Corfu, 349 ; constitution of, 350. 
Cosseir, port of, 92, note. 
Creed of Mahomet, 58. 
Crescent, 10, 283; as a symbol, 350, 
269. 

Crocodiles, first shot at, 85 ; death by, 
86; king of, 87; nest of, ib. ; sa- 
cred, 142. 

Cromwell, 174. 

Cross, 10, 100; as a symbol in ancient 

times, 269. 
Crusades, 190, 232; castle, 269. 
Cufic inscriptions, 96, 
Cummins, gallantry of, 207. 
Cyclades, 334. 
Cynthus, Mount, 335. 
Cyprus, 319. 



INDEX. 



377 



Davr el Bahree, 156. 

Dakke, 37, 68, 138. 

Damascus, ride to, 29S ; bath, 300 ; 
hotel, ib. ; Franciscan Convent, 
301 ; country round, 302 ; life in, 
ib. 

Daraietta, 22. 

D amour river, 202. 

Danae, 48. 

Danaus, loo. 

Dandour, temple of, 139. 

Dari'ur, 82, 89. 

Dead Sea, 237 ; described, 264 ; water 

of, 265. 
Debod, temple of, 139. 
Delos, 334. 
Delta, 28, note. 
Demosthenes, 20, 340. 
Dendera, 87, loS; description oi 

buildings, 159. 
Derr el Kamar, town of, 287 
Desert, transit of, 182, note. 
Dian, 335. 
Diana, 334. 

Dirr, 124; arrival at, 135 ; king of, 

136. 
Djouni, 203. 
Doseh, ceremony of. 39. 
Doum-paim, 88 ; uses of, ib., note. 
Dreux, Count de, Note III., end. 
Druses, 287 ; history of, Note III,, 

end. 

Dubray, Dr., his disinterested kind- 
ness to the Author, 161. 
Durwadeega, 128. 
Durweeshes, 39; procession of, ib. 

Eblis, 133 
Edith, o, 49. 
Edfou, 95, 143. 

Egypt, gilt of the Nile, kc, 19. 

— ■ Upper, 82, 88. 

Egyptian race, 50 ; infant, 52 ; occu- 
pations, ib. ; character, 53 ; dress, 
54; life, 56; priests, 68; destruc- 
tion bv conscription, 79 ; music, 152. 

Eilethyas, 143. 

Elephamina, the Isle of Flowers, 

20, 95. 
Elfv Bev, 177. 
El Birkel, 102. 
El Hamra, S2. 

Emir's palace, 287 ; bath, 289. 
England expected in the East, 163 
English truth proverbial at Cairo, 27. 
Eothen, 187, 205, note. 



Erminia, 49. 
Esbekeyah, 38. 

Esneh, arrival at, 94,142, markets 
and bazaars, 144 ; governor of, 14S. 
Ethiopia, 44. 
Eutvchian heresv, 100. 
Eve, 48, 50. 

Fakreddin, 207, 208. 

Fanny, 127, and note. 

Fatima, 43. 

Feast of Lanterns, 38. 

Fellow-passengers, 2, 5. 

Flags on the Nile, 81. 

Flies on the Nile, 143. 

Forest of pines, 201. 

Fortunate Island, 122, 123. 

Funeral among Moslems, 55. 

Furniture of Cairene residence, 162. 

Galla country, slaves of, 40. 
Gault, Mademoiselle, 166. 
Gebel Adha, 134. 
Gethsemane, 235, 238. 
Gezeen, village of, 292. 
Gibraltar, 7 ; surrounding scenery, 
18. 

Gilgal, Valley of, 267. 

Gizeh, Pyramids of, 72, 166, et seqq. 

Golgotha^ 240. 

Gournou, 148, 153. 

Grand Harbour, Malta, 12. 

Grecian sunset, 335, 346. 

Greece, 336; population of, 343; 
schools of, ib.; king of, 342 ; revo- 
lution of, 344, 345 ; farewell to, 
346. 

Greeks, costume of, 336, 345 ; cha- 
racter of, 343. 

Guerf Hassan, its position, 138; inte. 
rior of temple, ib. 

Guzo, 71. 

Habeesh, 101. 

Hadjar Silsili, quarries of, 142. 
Hareems, 42 ; the heavenly, 56. 
Plasbeya, the Emir of, 293. 
Hashem, family of, 59. 
Hassan Kiashef, 135. 
Hedjaz, 178, 277. 
Heliopolis, 35 ; antiquity of ib. 
Hermit bird, 96, note. 
Hermon, Mount, ascent of, 295. 
Hemacenta, 113. 

Hermonthis, 93 ; temple inspected 
148. 



378 



ISDEX. 



Hesperus, 335. 

Hiil couutry of Judea, 235. 

Holv Land, 189 ; reverence to, 190, 

191,216. 
Holy Sepulchre, 190, 239. 
Horses, luxury of Arab, 152; favourite, 

200 ; Arab described, 275 ; classes 

of, 276 ; endurance, ib. 
Hoskins, Mr., 9S ; his wovk, 99. 
Houris, 46. 
Humboldt, 155. 

Ionian Islands, 347. 

Ipsamboul, 134; temple described, 

132, 133. 
Isis, 73. 

Ismael Pasha, his tyranny, 101 ; his 

death, 102, 179. 
Islamism, 63, 64. 

Jackall, exported from Thebes, 160 ; 
died of cold, 161. 

Jaffa or Joppa, 223, et seq. ; consular 
agent at, 224 ; Buonaparte's butch- 
ery at, 225. 

Jelab, slave merchant, S2. 

Jericho, 25 1 , 270. 

Jerusalem, approach to, 230; first 
view of, 232 ; its site, 233; interior, 
234 — 240; surrounding country, 
235 ; topography of, 240, note ; as 
a military post, 252. 

"\e\v, characteristics of, 27S ; the ten 
tribes, ib. ; in Palestine, 279 ; in 
Europe, 279 ; worship, ib. ; creed 
of, 2S0; at Jerusalem, 283. 

Jordan, Valley of, 237, 252; rivei, 
266. 

Josephs Well, 34, n.; marriage, 35. 

Kalabshe, 119 ; warlike city, 139. 

Karjiah, 75. 

Keith, Lord, 26. 

Keneh, 86, 89, 92, note. 

Khans, 201, and note. 

Kishon, river, 217. 

Kleber, 26. 

Koran, a library in itself, 36, note ; 

allows four w» es, 42 ; eulogized by 

Europeans, 62. 
Korosko, 124; return to, 136. 
Kosseir, port-dues, 1 6. 

Lane. 55, note, 69, 71, 165. 
La Valetta, description of, 12; name 
derived trom, 15. 



Lebanon, sunset view of, 198; ride to, 
201 ; the route, 202, 312 ; view from, 
203; cedars of, 313, 314. 

Lepanto, gulf of, 347; castle of, 348. 

Levant, 1S7. 

Life at sea, 3. 

Linant, the engineer, 163. 

Lindsay, Lord, 69, 81, 127, 169. 

Luxor,* 93, 148, 156. 

Lycopolis, tombs of, 82; city of, 198. 

Maadie, lake of, 26. 
Maquire, 207. 

Magic, stronghold in Egypt, 67, 13S; 
its professors, 6S; experiments in, 
69, 70. 

Magnetism at Damascus, 304. 

Mahmoud, an invaluable dragoman, 
&c, 70, 73, 82, 90, 91,92. 

Mahomedan Faith. 54, 55. 

Mahomedanism, 62; its spirit, 64. 

Mahomet, descent, 59; early history, 
60; character, 61. 

Malta, 13, note; inhabitants, ib ; soil, 
14; surrender to Frauce, 15, note. 

Mamelukes, 26; their tombs, 37; 
" time of," 161. 

Mareotis, lake, 17, 26. 

Markets on the Nile. 88, 97. 

Mar Saba, 243, 261 ; convent of, 263. 

Medinet Abou, palace of, 153; colony 
of Christians there, 154, note. 

Mehemet AH, 26, 66; treachery, 34; 
his palace and garden, 36; large 
family, 57, note; life of, 174; birth, 
175; conquest of Cairo, 177; made 
pasha, ib.; war on the "Wahabees, 
ib. ; made pasha of Caudia, 180; 
of Syria, 181 ; appearance, 182 ; 
character, 1S3. 

Memnon, statue of, 153; history, 154. 

Memphis, 71. 

Meroe, 98. 

Metarieh, garden of, 35. 
Mineyeh, 81, 85. 

Missionary labours and schools, 66; 
medical relief, 67, note; American, 
2 18. and note. 

Missolonghi, 344. 

Moab, hills of, 26S. 

Monastic institutions, 242, 243; pro- 
gress of, 242 ; knighthood, 245, note. 

Moon, mountains of, 93. 

Moriah, mount, 234, 236. 

Moses, 68. 

Moslem race, 512 ; schools, ib. ; dress, 



XHDEX. 



379 



54; devotions, ib.; resignations, 55; 

paradise, 56. 
Mosques in Egypt, 165. 
Mummies of animals, S3. 
Mutiny of boat crew, 159. 
Musical rocks, 155. 

Nahr-el-Kelb, or Dog River, 196; 

fording of, 31S. 
Nelson, 23, 24, 25. 

Nile, 19 ; valley of, 25 ; history of, 30; 

sources, 21 ; importance of, 20, 79, 

85 ; inundations, 22 ; Naiads of, 27 ; 

first experience or, ib.; incantation 

to night on it, 74; moonlight, ib.-. 

morning, ib- ; monotony, 80; return 

to, 84; banks of, 91. 
Nubia received Christian faith, 99; 

costumes and language of, 115 ; 

beauty of women, 116. 

Obelisk, 35; at Paris, 156; its decay, 

126. 
Odalisque, 46. 

Olives, Mount of, 233, 235—250. 
On, the, of Scripture, 35. 
Ophthalmia cured, 94. 
Order of Knights of Rhodes, 16 ; of 

St. John, 244; of Templars, ib.; 

others, n.; Hospitallers, 245. 
Oriental steamer 2 ; testimony in 

favour of captain and crew, 7, n. 
Orientals, their aspect, 50. 
Osman Bardissy, 177. 
Otho, King of Greece, palace of 336 ; 

his character, 342; his queen, 345. 

Palseologns, 329. 
Peestum, 20. 
Palm-tree, 8S, 267. 
Parnassus, Mount, 347. 
Parthenon, 340. 

Pasha, palace of, 17; pressgangs, 79 ; 

monopolies, 81. 
Patriarch of Alexandria, 65. 
Pentelicus, 340. 
Pera, 324. 
Pericles, 338, 339. 
Persian princes, 319. 
Petrified forest, 37. 

Philoe, 106, 142; its wild beauty, 
106; its temple, 112; its interest, 
113; beautiful native, 116; return 
to, 139. 

Pirates' encampment, 317; escape 
from, lb. 



Pnyx, 340. 

Pompey's Pillar, 16. 

Pools of Solomon, 255 ; sunset view 
of, 256 ; adventure in returning 
from, ib. 

Priess, Mr., 164. 

Princes' Islands, 321, 2. 

Prudhoe, Lord, 69, 70. 

Pyramids in the distance, 33, 167; 
expedition to, 168; their antiquity, 
169; legends of, 170; measure- 
ment of, ib note. 

Quarantine of Bevrout, 191 ; release 

from, 194. 
Quarrel with Nubians, 123-4. 

Rais of the Cataract, 103, 10S, 110; 

his death, 140. 
Rameses the Second, or Sesostris, 133 
Ramleh, 226,7 ; convent of, ib. 
Religion of Mahomet, 60 ; decline, 63; 

scarcitv of conversion to Christian 

faith, 64. 
Rhenia, island of, 334. 
Rhoda, 43; visit to, 81, 171. 
Rhodes, island and city of, 320. 
Rosetta, 23, 25. 
Russell, Henry, 171. 

Said, sugar plantations in, 163. 
Sailing packet between Alexandria 

and Bevrout, 18S. 
Scenery on the Nile, 105 ; Nubif, 

119. 

Schools of medicine, 165. 

Schultz, Dr., consul of Prussia, 240. 

n., Note IV., end. 
Second Cataract, 125, 140. 
Serapis, temple of, 17. 
Sesostris, palace, temple, and statue 

of, 155. 
Seyala, village of, 137. 
Sheba, Queen of, 35 ; descendant of, 

100. 
Shehayl, 105. 

Sheikh, at Cairo, 39, 49; quarrel 

with, 104. 
Shoobra, palace and garden of, 36. 
Sidon, 187, 191, 207, 20S. 
Siout, 45, 66, S2. 
Slave market, 39, 40. 
Smith, Sir Svdney, 26. 
Smvrna, 332*, 333. 
Songs of the Nile, 128, 129, 130. 
Southampton pier, 1. 



380 



IXDEX. 



Sphinx, 35, 156 ; described, 169. 
Stabl d'Antar, tombs of, 83-4. 
Stanhope, Lady Hester, 203, 204, 

205; relics of, 204. 
Gibraltar, 9. 

Substitute for bread, 141. 
Sultan Mahmoud,331. 
Syene, 95, 6 ; its loneliness, 96. 
Syene, quarries of, 35. 
Symplesades, 326. 
Syra, 333, 334. 
Syria, coast of, 187. 
Syrian home, 191; family, ib.; scenery, 
195. 

Tabor, Mount, 217, 219. 
Templars, the, 244, 5. 
Temple of Carnak, 153. 

of Vulcan, in Egypt, 76, 

77. 

of Theseus, 342. 

Temple of the Sun, 35. 
Tennyson, Alfred, 121. 
Terebinthine vale, 229. 
Thebes, impatience to reach, 92; its 

site, 153; visions of, 160. 
Tiger King, 101. 

Tombs of the Kings, 149 ; visitors 
there, 150, 1. 

Tombs of the Queens, 156. 

Travel in the Holy Land, 199 ; East- 
ern, 188. 

Tropics, sunshine of, 103; passing 
within, 119; climate, 120; night in 
the, 121. 

Turk, 51 ; character, 57. 

Tyre, 187, 191, 208; history of, 209- 
10. 



Unkiar Skelessi, old fortress of, 3'27; 
treaty of, 181. 

Valley of Lions, 137. 
Valley of Bekaa, 309. 
Van, Lake, 330. 

Voyage to Alexandria, 4; begins on 
the Nile, 78; to Bevrout, 188, 189 ; 
to Jaffa, 222. 

Vyse, Colonel, 169. 

Wady Haifa, 114, 125, 126,131. 
Wadv Sebou, or Valley of the Lions, 

137. 
Wahabees, 177. 

Walne, Mr., consul at Cairo, 164. 
Walpole, 294. 
White River, 102, 121. 
Wilkinson, Sir Gardner, 50,165, 168, 
169. 

Woman-murderer, 45. 

Women, their life and habits, 41 ; 
nature of their happiness in the 
East, 43 ; their insipidity, 46 ; reli- 
gion, 47; contrast, ib.; at Damascus, 
303. 

Wood, Mr., consul at Damascus, 300, 

301, 306, n. 
Worship of the stars, 58. 

Yataghan, short sword, 215. 
Youssoof, Arabic for Joseph, 3i, xu 

Zacynthians, 348. 
Zante, 348. 

Zebdani, village of, 307,8. 
Zion, 234, 236. 
Zoar, 268 



PRINTKD BY HARRISON AND SON, 
LONDON GAZETTE OFPICK, ST, MARTIN'S LA2JU. 



- 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process, 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: May 2011 

PreservationTechnologies 

A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 

1 1 1 Thomson Park Drive 
Cranberry Township, PA 16055 
(724) 779-2111 



